


Janelle Morgan -- Year 1: The Forbidden Corridor

by audisawesomesauce



Series: Janelle Morgan (Hogwarts Mystery) [1]
Category: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, Past Tense, all rights to Portkey Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audisawesomesauce/pseuds/audisawesomesauce
Summary: After the disappearance of her elder brother Jacob, Janelle "Jane" Morgan is determined to find out what really happened. Throughout her years at Hogwarts, she becomes a major part of a strange and complicated mystery that involve the fabled Cursed Vaults, ominous black quills, and a sinister organization known simply as R. What could it all mean, and how are the Morgan Siblings connected to all of this?This is Jane's first year at Hogwarts, during which she deals with much criticism toward her "cursed" history and the ruthless and verbally abusive Merula Snyde, and discovers a curious corridor that contains some icy secrets.
Series: Janelle Morgan (Hogwarts Mystery) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923844
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	1. The Story Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

“Got your letter, Jane?”

I had to admit I was nervous, but I was also incredibly excited. Here I was, being led through the famous wizard pub, only known as the Leaky Cauldron, to the back of the building where the most famous alley in all of Wizard history was located…

Except when my parents led me through the back door, all I saw was a solid brick wall separating us and, presumably, the next building on the other side.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve got it here,” I told her as I pulled out my acceptance letter that I had received three months ago out of my front pocket.

I about leapt myself right through the ceiling of my room when I finally got my acceptance letter for the first time, and Mum and Dad were so proud when I’d run downstairs to tell them the good news. Before that, when my brother first got his, I had been counting down the years—and eventually days—until I received mine. I was so jealous after we had dropped him off at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, where he would be off to school in a majestic castle in the middle of nowhere up North, and I had pleaded with my parents to let me go with him, but they had refused and told me I wasn’t old enough yet to attend. I had gotten my letter the day after I’d just turned eleven, and it had become the best birthday present of my life.

And now I was finally to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in just less than four days from today.

“Do I really have to do this by myself?” I asked nervously, feeling my palms slick with sweat and my legs feeling like jelly. “Diagon Alley is so baffling. I don’t even know where to start. Why can’t you come with me?”

I had remembered the first time I had come to Diagon Alley with my family when my brother was to start his first year at Hogwarts. I was so overwhelmed when I stepped through the magical barrier that was supposedly the brick wall I was standing in front of now. At the time, school was about to resume, and the Alley was almost completely crowded with witches and wizards doing their last minute shopping. I swear, I had almost fainted when I realized how busy and how unbelievably amazing it was. I honestly didn’t know what to expect this time round—especially after what had happened with my brother—and didn’t want a repeat of the last time I was here, but that was before my brother’s incident.

“Because this will be a good learning experience for you,” my father answered.

“How so?” I asked, puzzled. How was walking, by myself, through a narrow alley crowded down-and-back with witches and wizards I didn’t know—who would know about my brother’s incident and might question me about it, and I would be expected to just talk it out like it was not a big deal, even though it _was_ —to be a learning experience? “I don’t even know where everything is, and you know Diagon Alley much better than me.”

“True. However, you won’t know anything unless you learn it for yourself,” he explained. “That is what school is all about. When you go to Hogwarts in just three days’ time, you won’t be expecting us to accompany you. We’ve already gone and graduated, so you’ll be on your own.”

“But you won’t be completely alone,” my mother added quickly. “There will be many other students there with you, and some of them may even be your age and will most likely be just as nervous as you are. It is perfectly normal to be nervous for your first day of school, especially to one without your parents there to aid you. I remember how nervous Jacob was during his first week at Hogwarts.” She paused, and I could suddenly sense her disappointment towards the terrible choices my brother had made when he was still in school.

“But that’s what friends are for,” Dad continued before the tension between us could escalate. “I reckon, after this experience, you’ll meet someone who is very knowledgeable and would be willing to help you out if needed, and you’ll become the best of friends before you even get to Hogwarts.”

“You think so?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. I doubted I would instantly decide to be friends with someone right after I met them, or vice versa. Who is to say they would not be attending Hogwarts when I start? What if they would recognize me as the younger sister of the ‘cursed’ boy that put all of Hogwarts in danger during his last year before he was expelled and would think I was ‘cursed’ too?

“I _know_ so,” my father said with much confidence in his deep voice. “I promise you, once you meet your first friend, you won’t have to worry about anything else whilst you’re away from us.”

“You can always send us an owl if absolutely necessary,” my mother said with a hopeful tone in her voice. I remembered her often sending my brother tons of owls while he was still at school, and I sensed her hoping that I would do the same whilst I was away.

“But only as a last resort,” my dad added. “There are many brilliant professors teaching at Hogwarts, and of course there are your fellow peers to look to for help as well.”

“Filius Flitwick was my favorite teacher at Hogwarts,” Mum said with a smile. “I always went to him whenever I struggled with Charms. Did you know he was once a famous dueling champion back in his days?”

I shook my head as my dad said, “I received top grades in Transfiguration during my second year because of Professor Minerva McGonagall. She was a magnificent witch. Very sharp temper, though, mind you. She’s the head of Gryffindor House, which was our house back in our days.”

“Of course there are some professors you may _not_ like,” Mum added. “I can’t really think of any particular professors I hated back in the day. But even if that changed, I’m sure you’ll learn to deal with them and learn to still focus on your studies, even if they seem to give you a hard time.”

I could feel my nervousness increasing gradually as my parents continued talking about their times at Hogwarts and the obstacles they had faced there, and I thought of myself facing those exact same obstacles, assuming they still existed even after my parents had graduated.

I was honestly a little anxious to leave my parents to attend a school seemingly far away from them. After my brother’s expulsion and mysterious disappearance, I had had a fear of leaving their side. I remembered after his first year at Hogwarts, my brother had told me he was highly convinced that there were vaults hidden in and around the school, containing cursed treasures and artifacts from before Hogwarts existed, and he had spent all year searching for them but had never found them. Before he had gone back to school the next year, he had made a personal oath to himself that he would find these so-called ‘Cursed Vaults’ and bring back the treasure and show everyone that they exist and are not just a legend like everyone thought. People thought he was mad from this obsession, and for a long time I had believed that too, even when I was just a child. I tried telling him that these vaults must be cursed for a reason and that he shouldn’t go looking for them, not knowing what would happen to him should he end up finding them, but he kept saying that nothing would happen to him as long as he didn’t get caught, but in the end that ended up being the result of his expulsion. He had disappeared after that and had been missing ever since.

I remembered how unbelievably upset my parents felt when they had received the letter from the Headmaster of Hogwarts, saying that my brother had been expelled from school and seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. Mum wouldn’t stop crying for weeks after that, and Dad had hardly ever spoken to us about anything, especially anything related to my brother. When they first told me what happened to Jacob, I was just as furious as they were. I knew he was a troublemaker ever since he was little, but I didn’t think it was fair for Hogwarts to expel him from school. I was especially angry that he had left without telling us. Just days after Hogwarts had sent that letter, I caught Dad reading an article about the incident in the _Daily Prophet_ , but I didn’t bother reading it because I didn’t see the point in reading something that would disgrace our family’s well-being. That, and I didn’t want to be even angrier than I had already been at the time.

And in just three days’ time, I was to attend the same school where my brother got expelled and be treated like a freak like he was.

“But what about…my brother?” I asked nervously. “Everyone at school is going to know what he did. People will think I’m weird and wouldn’t want to be my friend, thinking they’ll be cursed if they stay too close to me.”

Suddenly looking close to tears, Mum shook her head and said, “No, Jane. Don’t ever think that you’re weird.” She placed a shaky hand on my shoulder as she continued, “If anyone happens to give you a hard time, you stand up to them. Never let a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or especially a Slytherin, ruin your sparkle. As fellow Gryffindors, your father and I were very brave and chivalrous in our days at Hogwarts. Jacob, on the other hand…well, let’s just say his chivalry didn’t work out in his favor. If you get put in Gryffindor, and we hope that you will, you will be just as brave as we were in our times at Hogwarts.”

I honestly never really thought of myself as brave or chivalrous, which happened to be the star qualities of Gryffindor House. Growing up as a Pure-Blood, I never had many friends, at least that were young witches and wizards that came from a Wizard family, like me. We lived in the Muggle town of Bristol, and most of the kids that were my age had no magic, so it wasn’t like I could make friends and have them ask about how I can seemingly make an object move with my mind without really knowing I was doing it; using magic in front of Muggles was against Magical Law. Because of my magical abilities, and knowing of the Law against using magic in the presence of a Muggle, I was too afraid to approach Muggle children, or _any_ Muggle really. I didn’t like the idea of drawing a lot of attention to myself, and that was the number one thing I feared would happen at Hogwarts.

I actually saw myself as a Hufflepuff, mainly because Mum was impressed with my kindness towards others, even if they were Muggles. One time, I was in my room, reading a book on magical creatures in the sixteenth century, when I’d heard a little girl crying just outside the house. I looked outside and saw the Muggle girl sitting on the pavement with a skinned knee and a broken tricycle toppled over next to her. Apparently she had been riding along when the trike had somehow fallen over when it had rolled onto the uneven slab, taking the girl with it, and she had ended up scraping her knee during the fall and had started crying in pain as a result. I knew I couldn’t just leave her suffering like that, so I yelled for my dad—Mum was working at the Ministry of Magic at the time, and Jacob was over at Hogwarts—and we both ran outside to aid the injured girl. We knew the girl to be the daughter of one of our Muggle neighbors—Rosie was her name—and I often babysat her during the holidays. While Dad brought the tricycle into the garage to ‘fix’ it—really he was just going to fix it with a simple spell and wasn’t going to use magic in broad daylight and in front of Muggle Rosie—I stayed outside with Rosie to comfort her. Eventually Dad came back outside with the tricycle fully repaired, and Rosie had luckily stopped crying and rode off back home, but not before asking Dad how he had fixed the trike so quickly. “Just a clever trick up my sleeve,” he had said to her, and I couldn’t help but laugh. When Mum came home from the Ministry and Dad told her what I—technically _we_ —did, Mum was so proud of me and said something about this kind act as something a true Hufflepuff would do, but she also said it was one of a true Gryffindor too, because I was brave enough to choose to go outside and help the Muggle girl rather than stay in my room and ignore the situation. I honestly thought it was more out of kindness than bravery, but apparently Mum thought differently.

“I’ll try,” I finally said after returning to the present moment.

“That’s our girl,” Dad said with a smile as he wrapped me up in a tight embrace. After he released me, he asked, “Now, are you ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said with a nervous sigh. _Ready to embrace the extravagance and insanity of Diagon Alley and see if it kills me like last time_. If I was going to make a total fool of myself, I would’ve rather done it here than at school.

“Good. Then stand back.”

I frowned quizzically as Dad took out his wand and started tapping in seemingly random places on the brick wall. Milliseconds after his final tap, the bricks suddenly started moving by themselves and rotated to the left and right, creating a seemingly impossible doorway. Through the ‘doorway’ was the infamous Diagon Alley, with its ancient-looking buildings on either side of a brick walkway made of possibly the same stone as the wall that had literally moved aside for me.

Diagon Alley was just as I had remembered it, but luckily it didn’t seem as busy as the last time I was here. Maybe that was because at the time that my brother attended Hogwarts, there were a lot more children in his year than there will be in mine. I wasn’t entirely sure, but it hardly mattered. I was back, and somehow I felt braver than before, though I’d probably just expected there to be thousands of witches and wizards like last time, but instead I had discovered much less than expected, which was a relief. Or it could’ve been because I was returning to a place I had visited before, and usually the first time was much scarier than the next.

At the time that the bricks were moving aside for me, I briefly heard my mother wish me luck and say something about meeting them back in the Leaky Cauldron after I had gotten most of my supplies, and then they were going to take me into Gringotts to get me some more money to take to school; they had given me a small pouch of coins to spend on my own when getting my books, robes, wand, and whatnot. I thought I heard my dad ask me to say ‘hi’ to Mr. Ollivander when I saw him, but I hadn’t been paying attention because I was too fascinated with the self-moving bricks.

After the bricks solidified back into walls, now on either side with a wide ‘doorway’ in the middle, I turned back to my parents to see if they were going to follow me, but they had already disappeared back into the Leaky Cauldron. I felt a pang of nervousness for wandering into Diagon Alley alone, but then I told myself, _no, you are not alone. There must be other witches and wizards here that are about to start over at Hogwarts too, who are probably just as nervous as you are. You can do this. Be brave, like a Gryffindor._

I suddenly frowned at that last thought, but then that frown morphed into a slight smile. _Huh, maybe I_ do _see myself as a Gryffindor after all._


	2. A Knowledgeable Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane has been dismissed to Diagon Alley alone, but where to start?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

With a purpose, I walked casually through the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley, careful not to catch anyone’s eye. I saw a small group of witches and wizards conversing and eating ice cream outside a ‘Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour’. As I passed them by, I had accidentally caught the eye of a wizard—or maybe he had caught mine first—that seemed to be looking at me like I had no right to be wandering around here alone. Then he turned to the others and murmured something to them in a low voice that I could not hear before turning his head back in my direction. I was pretty sure the wizard had somehow recognized me as the ‘possibly cursed’ sister that my ‘definitely cursed’ brother was related to. Before everyone else in the group could turn and notice me, I looked away from them and quickly slipped into the nearest shop opposite them. I didn’t bother reading the shop’s name; I just wanted to escape the group’s seemingly aggressive stares and didn’t want to deal with the attention they seemed eager to give me about my brother’s incident.

Luckily it was a shop I actually needed to find. It was a retail store that sold every kind of robe imaginable, from casual to formal, from school robes to plain everyday robes, from crazy to sane, you name it. Most of the school robes had a range of four colors, possibly representing the Hogwarts Houses: red for Gryffindor, blue for Ravenclaw, green for Slytherin, and yellow for Hufflepuff.

I pulled out my letter and looked over the list of things I needed for the year. One of the things on the list I was required to bring were a few sets of robes to wear for school and to wear for outside of class, and this store seemed like the place to shop for those exact things. 

As I was perusing through all of the colorful ties for each of the Houses—I had admittedly found myself attracted to the red and gold striped ties that were for Gryffindor House—a seemingly elderly woman came up to me, seeking my attention. She had introduced herself as Madam Malkin and kindly offered to help me find the right robes I needed for school. As she was performing body measurements on me, she had briefly asked if I was related to the ‘cursed’ boy that was mentioned in the _Daily Prophet_ for being expelled from Hogwarts not many years ago, and I quickly said, “No.” Madam Malkin said that the ‘cursed’ boy— _Cursed Boy is not his name; it’s Jacob_ , I thought but did not say—and I looked a lot alike, but I shrugged the idea off. Unbeknownst to her, she was right, of course. When we were young, people often commented that it was obvious that Jacob and I were siblings, because we had the exact same nose, chin, and hair and eye color. If only he hadn’t disgraced our family name and disappeared from us, I would’ve still thought of him as a part of the family. It seemed impossible now.

Luckily Madam Malkin didn’t say much about the ‘Morgan Incident’, mainly because she probably sensed that I didn’t care to talk about it, but I didn’t think she thought it seemed a personal topic to me—it _was_ , but she didn’t need to know that.

After I bought all my robes for school, I left ‘Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions’, which happened to be the name of the shop I had snuck in to escape the group of witches and wizards outside of Florean Fortescue's. Luckily the staring group was no longer in the area, which was a relief. I’d made a mental note to myself to keep looking down to the ground so as not to catch a single person in the eye for the rest of my shopping experience.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to work out in my favor, because I had accidentally bumped into someone coming in the opposite direction.

“Sorry,” I apologized quickly, instinctively looking up at whom I had stupidly collided with.

“No, it was my fault,” said the dark-skinned girl in front of me, straightening her rectangular glasses on her face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

We paused and looked at each other. She was a cute girl with dark skin and even darker hair draping over her shoulders and past her elbows. She wore large glasses that probably very rarely left the inside of a book. She appeared to have come from an Indian family, despite having the same accent as me. Between the two of us, we looked similar in height and age.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully with the biggest smile she could muster. “I’m Rowan Khanna! Are you getting ready to start at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry too?” She seemed to have totally forgotten about our awkward collision with one another, even though I was pretty sure _I_ was the one who wasn’t looking where I was going.

“Yes,” I nodded, “but Diagon Alley is a bit confusing. I’m not sure where to start…”

“I can help!” Rowan said excitedly, practically jumping up and down on the spot. “I’ve been reading _Hogwarts: A History_ in anticipation of my first year, so I’m something of an expert on Hogwarts.” _Yup, definitely a nerd_ , I thought… _just like me_. “I see you’ve already got all of your robes from Madam Malkin's.” She pointed to the large bag I was carrying that, indeed, held all of my robes for school. “The next thing you should do, if you haven’t already, is finding all of the books you need at Flourish and Blotts! I literally just came from there.” She pointed behind her to the small library-looking shop that had books of all different sizes on display in the front windows. “Flourish and Blotts has all the books you need! Go inside and pick them up!”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be back,” I said as I followed her advice and entered the bookshop.

Flourish and Blotts was basically a normal Muggle library, only much more magical. There were books stacked high and low on shelves that reached all the way up to the ceiling, and some that were just stacked in a corner on the floor, literally waiting their turn to be put back on the proper shelf. I actually meant ‘literally’, because I saw a young witch wave her wand, making a book magically lift itself from the pile into the air and soar over to its rightful shelf, settling with its twins.

I took out my letter again and read the list of books I needed for the upcoming year:

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Year 1)_ by Miranda Goshhawk

 _A history of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

 _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

After I read over the list a few more times, I set about searching for these books. I had remembered reading _Fantastic Beasts_ once in Dad’s study—it was brilliant—but it had been ages since I had read it, but I couldn’t wait to read it again. I had also heard of Bathilda Bagshot, but I had never read any of her works. I had heard rumors that she was a very close friend with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, but I didn’t know any details of their relationship. I had never heard of any of the other books—nor their authors—I was meant to purchase for school, but I was looking forward to all the amazing things I would learn and the major challenges I would face this year.

Once I had purchased all of the books I was required to bring for the year, I was struggling to carry all the extra weight from the bags of books, as well as all my uniforms from Madam Malkin's, and didn’t think I had any extra arms to carry anything else. If the girl I’d bumped into earlier—Rowan—was still outside, waiting for me, maybe she could help me carry some of my bags so I would, at least, have an extra hand to buy my wand and other supplies I needed. I honestly didn’t think she would run off with my bags, since she had purchased the exact same books as me— _why would someone need two copies of the same book, anyway?_

“I should ask Rowan what to do next,” I thought to myself aloud after I had spotted her still standing outside the bookstore. After I swiftly approached her, I said gratefully, “Thanks for your help, Rowan. I was able to get all of my books.”

“Cool!” she said enthusiastically. Then her enthusiasm suddenly dropped a little as she said, “Sorry, I’m so excited for Hogwarts that I forgot to ask your name…”

“Oh, my name is Janelle,” I said in a no-big-deal manner. It was perfectly normal to get excited over something and then suddenly forget about the environment around you. “But most people call me Jane. I’m okay with either, though.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jane,” Rowan smiled, shaking my hand.

“You too,” I smiled back. “I couldn’t be more excited to get to Hogwarts.”

“I know!” she agreed. “I haven’t stopped staring at my acceptance letter since it arrived. Can I see yours?”

At first I didn’t understand why Rowan had wanted to see my acceptance letter, when I was ninety-eight percent positive that hers had the exact same thing that was written on my letter, the only difference being her name instead of mine. Nevertheless, I found myself gladly handing it over.

Despite reading it only a few times, in contrast to the number of times Rowan had read hers, I remembered my letter presenting as follows:

_Dear Janelle Morgan,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

**_Minerva McGonagall_ **

_Deputy Headmistress_

After Rowan had finished reading my letter and graciously handed it back to me, she said, “I already got my supplies, but my mum gave me just enough to buy something special for school. I want to let everyone at Hogwarts know that I’m a serious intellectual who is well on her way to becoming Head Girl. What do you think I should get, Jane?”

I honestly was taken a bit back by surprise. Here was someone I barely knew, who was asking me what I thought she would like to take to school—something that didn’t make her look like a total freak.

I ultimately decided to blurt out the first thing that popped into my head. “I could see you…wearing a cool hat,” I said with a shrug.

“Good idea!” Rowan cried ecstatically, and I was relieved with my seemingly random choice. “I have lots of hats, but none of them are cool. While I get my hat, you should get your wand from Ollivander’s! They say your wand will choose you.”

Ollivander’s—I’d heard of that place. It was the place where every witch and wizard would get their first wand, the place where their fate would be decided.

“Thanks, Rowan,” I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind when I go there.”

“Good luck, Jane!” she said as she backed down Diagon Alley toward ‘Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions’. I guessed that store had more than just robes for sale. “We’ll meet back here when you’re done. I want to see what kind of wand you get from Ollivander’s.”

I waved after her in agreement before walking down the opposite direction—I had remembered Ollivander’s being close to Gringotts Bank.

Once I came across the building that was Ollivander’s, I suddenly found my newfound confidence diminish slightly. I had almost pictured myself standing—instead of in a pleasant-looking alley with attractive shops and friendly faces greeting one another kindly—in a dark field in the middle of nowhere in front of a seemingly abandoned and worn shack-like structure that seemed about to collapse at any given moment. The walls were black and frayed, like the building had recently caught fire that had just now been extinguished, its paint seemingly flaking off and settling to the ground, like ash. In contrast to all the other sturdier looking shops, this one looked a lot less inviting and seemed like it should have been located in a more dismal place, such as Knockturn Alley, where some of the dodgiest witches and wizards—particularly Slytherins, and possibly secret followers of You-Know-Who—hang out.

On the other hand, there was a funny sort of irony about the shop. Just hearing the name ‘Ollivander’s’ would make a young witch or wizard explode in excitement, knowing that this was the number one shop where they would get their first wand and would be the most excited to visit. However, looking at the building from the outside, it would look more like the sort of place one would invite someone to sign up to join the Death Eaters, and then they would be taken to a private school to learn the Dark Arts, such as the three Unforgivable Curses and the many ways to torture a soul into giving information or simply forcing them into the beliefs of You-Know-Who.

On a personal note, this was something I did not want to do, especially as an eleven-year-old. From the outside, Ollivander’s may have had the appearance of a decrepit-looking building that seemed to be falling apart, but the last time I was here, I saw many witches and wizards walking in and out of this building, and I remembered seeing the excited looks on the children’s faces as they entered to get their first wand, and even some that were waving their wands in front of their proud parents’ faces, like they were showing off a new toy they had received for Christmas, proving this building to be a good place to visit rather than a bad one. Knowing this made me suddenly feel less like a coward and more like a confident young girl who was ready to face the many challenges ahead of her.

Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to step inside and await the exciting mysteries to come.


	3. The Wand Chooses the Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say "The wand chooses the wizard/witch," but will the wand choose Jane?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

Once I stepped inside Ollivander’s, I had suddenly found myself overwhelmed with anxiety. Several fears came flooding to me at once: _What if this place had truly fallen into the hands of You-Know-Who, and someone did end up persuading me to join in his ranks—would I be able to run, or would I be jinxed if I didn’t join? If this place still remained a wand shop, would I be able to find the right wand and would hopefully be chosen by that wand? What if I had tried every wand in this shop, and absolutely none of them chose me, just because of my family’s ‘cursed’ history? What would Rowan think if I’d come back to her without a wand? Would she still be my friend, or would she think I’m a freak and would think I’m too ‘cursed’ to even deserve any friends at Hogwarts?_

Before I could think up any more fears, I heard a sudden _thump_ of a ladder hitting the edge of a shelf in the dim hallway just barely visible behind the desk. I looked up and saw an elderly man with curly grey hair and even older-looking eyes the color of maple. His lips curled in a smile the way one did when a well-known acquaintance arrived unannounced.

“I wondered when I would be seeing you, Miss Janelle Morgan,” he said in a scratchy voice that sounded like it was a thousand years old.

I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering how in the name of Merlin he knew my name.

After the man, whom I assumed was Ollivander himself, climbed down the rickety ladder and approached the desk with a twelve-by-two-inch navy-blue box in his wrinkly hands, he asked me, “Here to receive your first wand, yes?” After I nodded, he lifted up the box and said, “I have just the thing,” and took out a rather fine-looking wand with intricate carvings. “Apple wood wand, dragon heartstring core, nine inches, rigid. Go on. Give it a twirl!” He presented the wand to me, and I nervously took it from him.

I looked expectantly at Ollivander, hoping he would give me some instructions on what to do with the wand, but he just gestured his hand to nothing in particular, meaning that I was free to wave it at anything I chose to test it on. Naturally, I waved the wand over my head, and suddenly several papers went flying off the desk and scattered everywhere on the floor. Some even got shredded in midair, however that happened. _Did I do that?_

“Sorry about that,” I said, feeling embarrassed by the mess. I had felt an urge to clean it up, but Ollivander spoke up before I could do anything about it.

“It’s not your fault,” he said as if he had had this sort of thing happen to him several times before. “The wand chooses the witch, and that is clearly not the wand for you.” Then he paused for a moment, as one would recall something from the past. “I recall your brother exploded my favorite inkpot when he tried his first wand.”

My eyebrows rose in shock at these words. “You knew my brother?” But then I thought, _of course he knows my brother. Anyone who had been paying attention to the_ Daily Prophet _would know what he did and how that impacted the Wizarding World._

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold,” Ollivander explained. “His was _maple_ wood, dragon heartstring core, _ten_ inches. A fine wand. Shame they snapped it in half when he was expelled.” _Yup, he had definitely been paying attention_ , I thought dismally. “I understand that he ran away from home after being expelled and has been missing ever since. That must have had a profound impact on you…”

I could suddenly feel his sympathy towards me, but I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “Expelling him was completely unfair,” I said angrily, almost like a whiny five-year-old, “and it was just as wrong of him to run away without telling us.”

Ollivander raised an eyebrow, considering my seemingly huffy statement. I honestly didn’t mean to sound so huffy; it just sort of came out that way. “Hmmm…I can tell there’s a lot of fight in you.” Here, I raised an eyebrow quizzically. I never really viewed myself as a fighter, and I didn’t even think it possible to see that happening in the future, either. “I think I may have just the wand…” He turned back down the narrow hallway and skimmed several boxes until he picked another box that was black as tar. Then he returned to the desk with the box and took out what looked like just a twig roughly pulled from a tree. “Blackthorn…very unusual wand wood. Unicorn hair core, eleven-and-a-quarter inches. Slightly springy and flexible.”

He presented the seemingly less attractive looking wand to me, and once I had it firmly in my hand, I had suddenly felt a sense of euphoria. A calm breeze washed over me, but the door still remained closed behind me. It was like my own personal wind phenomenon, but the only damage it had done was ruffle my hair a bit. The light breeze ceased soon after.

 _What did this mean,_ I wondered? _Had I been chosen?_

“Splendid!” Ollivander cheered with a clap of his hands. “I’ll be interested to see what path you choose.”

I asked him if the wind I had felt was a sign that the wand had chosen me, and after he confirmed my assumption, I couldn’t have been more relieved.

After I bought my wand, Ollivander urged, “Go on, now. I look forward to seeing what becomes of you.”

With that, I left the store with my new and somewhat ugly looking blackthorn wand in hand.

After leaving the store, I examined the wand more closely in the bright light of the sun. It looked like owl pellets had simply been hardened and shaped into a magical object for wizardry. I honestly didn’t understand why a wand so ugly and unprofessional would choose me, or _anyone_ for that matter. Then again, I did come from a cursed family, so I guessed it would make sense for the most unattractive wand in the world to suddenly become attracted to _me_. I was very tempted to go back into the store and demand Ollivander a refund of this wand so that I could find another more suitable wand to my liking, but then I’d remembered my mum once tell me, “I am no wandologist, but there is a rumor that once you are chosen by a wand, it is like a promise being made. As long as that promise is kept, your wand will forever be connected to you until death, or until the wand renders ineffective to you if that promise is ever broken.”

Thinking back on Mum’s belief that wands had ‘voices’, I was honestly a little confused by this statement. Now that this blackthorn wand had chosen me, I guessed that wind phenomenon was the exact moment when the wand had created a magical bond, or promise, with me that it expected me to keep, between now and when I had decided to part with it. The problem was, I didn’t know what the so-called ‘promise’ was. How was I supposed to keep a promise if I didn’t even know what the promise was? Maybe in the years to come at Hogwarts, I was going to find out, and I couldn’t wait to get started.

Sometime later, I had found Rowan standing outside Flourish and Blotts where we had agreed to meet. She was dressed the same, but this time she was wearing a multicolored beanie atop her dark wavy hair.

“Oh! Hey, Jane!” she waved me over excitedly. “How do you like my hat?”

I could honestly say the multicolored beanie was an unusual combination with her current outfit, but instead I said, “It…suits you. You’ll look like the smartest first-year at Hogwarts.”

She smiled proudly. “It was _your_ suggestion! I’ll be coming to you for all my future fashion advice.” I couldn’t suppress a laugh; it was nice to hear someone comment something like that to me, especially when I very rarely shopped much at home. Mum always seemed to know what I liked and didn’t like and would do most of the shopping for me.

Rowan suddenly paused, looking dumbfounded. “Wait! Is that a _blackthorn_ wand?” She pointed down at my hand, and I had suddenly realized that I was still holding my unattractive looking wand in that hand.

Feeling slightly embarrassed to show her my wand, I had apparently found myself raising it up for her to see anyway. “Uh…yes. How did you know?”

“My family’s tree farm supplies wood for wands and brooms,” Rowan explained. “That’s why I love staying inside and reading. It keeps me from going outside and farming.” Then she looked down at her feet, seeming ashamed to say the next thing on her mind. “That, and the fact I don’t have any friends…”

“ _We_ can be friends,” I immediately responded. I somehow couldn’t imagine this girl not having any friends to look to at Hogwarts. I honestly had felt the same way about myself, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Really?” She sounded a little unsure. “You don’t think I’m too weird? People usually think I’m too weird.”

“People say the same thing about me,” I said honestly, shrugging my shoulders.

“Why would anyone say that about _you_?” she asked almost doubtfully.

 _Because I’m cursed_ , I thought to myself. _Because I have a relation to someone who had made bad choices in school that ultimately got him expelled that **everybody** at school will know about_.

“My brother is Jacob Morgan,” I admitted unhappily. It still hurt to talk about him.

Rowan’s eyes suddenly seemed to bulge out of her eye sockets, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t an illusion through her large glasses. “The same Jacob Morgan who was expelled from Hogwarts for breaking school rules in search of the fabled Cursed Vaults?” I nodded in confirmation. “That was a massive story in the _Daily Prophet_. Everyone at school will know about that.”

I nodded glumly. “I know. And they’ll all think I’m weird.”

“We’ll be weird _together_!” she said almost insistently, like she wasn’t going to allow me _not_ to be her friend. “What should I do if someone gives you trouble over your brother?”

Wow, I was almost impressed with this girl. Despite telling her the honest truth about my family history, she seemed to be willing to be my friend, regardless of whether I was cursed or not. Even if I did end up going nuts from some cursed artifact, and I had unknowingly started attacking her, I would’ve thought she would just avoid me for the rest of my life, but it seemed like she didn’t care what would happen in the future. In a way, it was like she was saying that even if I did go nuts, she would find a way to bring me back and would not be afraid to do so. She had no idea how much that comment meant to me.

“I can stand up for myself,” I said confidently, “but I’d feel better if I knew you were on my side.”

“Understood,” Rowan nodded seriously. “I’ll use my extensive vocabulary to verbally pummel anyone who attempts to besmirch your reputation.” She had said that in almost a joking manner, and I couldn’t help smiling.

“I’m glad we met, Rowan,” I said proudly. “It will be nice to see a friendly face at school. Especially one who knows Hogwarts so well.”

“Me too, Jane!” she agreed with great enthusiasm. “See you in September on the Hogwarts Express!”

“Yes!” I exclaimed with equal enthusiasm. “I can’t wait!”

Several minutes later, I was back in the Leaky Cauldron with my parents and telling them all about my meeting with Rowan Khanna and how she helped me tremendously with preparing for Hogwarts, as well as this experience helping me gain some newfound courage.

“Didn’t I tell you you’d meet someone helpful and knowledgeable before your first day?” my dad praised. “Especially one who is going to spend that first day _with_ you!”

At Mum’s request, I had reluctantly shown them my not-so-attractive Blackthorn wand and told them I honestly believed I had been chosen by the wrong wand, to which Mum said, “Remember what I told you about wands and how they make promises to the witch or wizard they choose? This Blackthorn wand chose _you_ , Jane, and now you must live up to its promise to remain bonded to it.”

“But that’s just it,” I countered back with a shrug, “I have no idea what that promise is. How am I supposed to keep a promise if I don’t even know what it is?”

“In time, my darling, you will find out,” Mum said as she embraced me tightly—a little _too_ tightly. “We are so proud of you, Jane.”

“Mum!” I groaned as I struggled to breathe. “You’re smothering me!” It was okay to do it at home, but it was _not_ okay to do it anywhere else, Muggle World or Wizarding World.

All things considered, I knew that as long as I had Rowan Khanna on my side during my time at Hogwarts, no matter what house we got Sorted in—though it would be incredible if we were sorted in the same house—everything would be right as rain.


	4. The Journey to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is September 1st, and Jane boards the Hogwarts Express and meets a couple of new friends (and enemies).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

The moment I had stepped through the barrier of Platform Nine and Three Quarters, it was like a new chapter was beginning its new cycle in my life. It was like I’d suddenly become a grownup—despite being eleven years old—and was about to board a train and move out of my parents’ house for good, even though it was only for the school year. Still, a year seemed like a lifetime away.

The Hogwarts Express was exactly as I remembered it when my brother went to Hogwarts for his first year, with its huge conical funnels giving out smoke from the massive scarlet engine. Above the sign that read ‘ _Hogwarts Express, 11:00, Platform Nine and Three Quarters’_ , a large brown and white-spotted owl hooted over the heads of several witches and wizards seeing their children off to school. I saw several children and teens sticking their heads out of the windows, waving and chatting to their families excitedly. Some children and teens were dressed in colorful robes and the casual school robes with the tie showing the color of the House they were representing, and others wore just plain everyday wear, such as jeans and hoodies, giving me the impression that they were coming from Muggle families or simply from the Muggle towns their Wizard families lived in. I had decided to wear jeans, my favorite red cardigan over a cream-colored top, and comfortable running shoes on the train, though Mum insisted I change before getting to school—I was supposed to wear my school robes with a plain black Hogwarts tie from the Hogsmeade platform to school. I told her I would change in the carriage on the train on the way.

“Have a safe and magical first year, Jane,” Mum whispered in my hair while she squeezed me goodbye. “Send me an owl every day.”

I told her I wasn’t going to send an owl _every_ day as that would make me homesick, but I promised her I would write to her as often as I could.

After I gave my parents one last hug, I brought my trunk to the back of the train where a strikingly handsome wizard who looked no older than twenty-five was loading several other trunks onto the train with the Levitating Charm, a charm that I couldn’t wait to learn at Hogwarts. After that, I hopped on board and stood at the window for several minutes, watching the train pull out of King’s Cross Station and eventually out of London.

After about half an hour of watching nothing but countryside moving past the window, my legs were starting to feel numb from standing for so long. I had ultimately decided to search for a carriage that wasn’t too full for me to sit and rest my legs—my parents told me it was a long walk to the castle from the platform, although it wasn’t that bad of a walk to the lake, where, as a first-year, we would take a boat to the castle.

For several minutes, I was walking through the train cars, trying to find a compartment that occupied less than four people, but the majority of the compartments were already fully packed, probably since we left King’s Cross. _Probably should’ve gone ahead and taken a seat ages ago_ , I thought dismally as I uncomfortably stretched my aching legs.

“Hey, Dora, you want my Pumpkin Pasty?” I saw a girl with strawberry-blond hair ask a short girl with bright pink hair in the compartment to my left. “I filled up on Chocolate Frogs.”

“Her name’s not Dora, Kathy,” said another girl with astonishingly pale skin, “it’s _Nympha_ dora.”

The girl with the magenta hair sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “How many times must I tell you guys _not_ to call me by those names?” she said as though she had had people call her by those names several times and was fed up of hearing them. “For the _last_ time, it’s just _Tonks_! Get it right for once!”

“Sorry, my bad!” the blond girl, Kathy, said, raising her hands up in surrender. “You want my Pasty or not?”

“Fine, hand it over,” Magenta Girl—Tonks—sighed, seeming annoyed, as she reluctantly reached out for the treat.

After another few minutes of searching various compartments for an empty spot to sit, I had finally found a compartment that occupied only two people—a tall broad-shouldered boy and a short chubby-cheeked girl with a streak of orange highlights flowing off to one side of her head. I was about to ask them if I could join them when the girl spoke up first, and it was on a topic that I had not expected.

“Believe me, Josh, I _know_ about the so-called ‘Morgan Incident’,” she said to the boy in a slightly annoyed tone, “and I honestly don’t care what would happen to me. When I find the Cursed Vaults, I will become the greatest and most powerful witch in the world.”

The instant that she’d mentioned the ‘Morgan Incident’, it made me subconsciously back away from the pair, but when she’d mentioned the Cursed Vaults, it made me want to stick around and hear more of what they were going to say. Maybe they knew something about my brother and of what happened to him.

“Yeah, but how are you actually going to _find_ them?” said Josh in a somewhat doubtful tone, like he didn’t think a _girl_ would be able to have the confidence of searching for a vault and be willing to face whatever lay on the other side. This made me want to listen in longer, despite the voice in the back of my mind screaming at me that these were kids that I should stay away from. Nevertheless, I couldn’t leave without knowing what these kids knew about the Vaults.

“I don’t know,” Chubby-Cheeks said, shaking her head, “but I’ll stay up all night looking if I have to, and I won’t let any Morgan loser get in my—Oi, Puny-Nose!”

I suddenly jumped at this statement, which had been apparently directed at me. _Bollocks, she’d seen me!_

“Who gave you permission to eavesdrop on us?” she yelled at me loud enough for the whole train car to hear. “Get out of here!” She waved her wand, and suddenly the compartment door slammed shut, almost with my foot still slightly over the threshold. Luckily I was able to pull my foot out of the way before the door could smash against it.

 _Well, that was rude_ , I thought indignantly to the closed door. _Wouldn’t be surprised if those two ended up being Sorted into Slytherin_. It was obvious that they were soon-to-be Slytherins, what with their seemingly Machiavellian demeanors and their strong passion to cause trouble. These seemed like two kids that needed to be kept a close watch on, but, then again, _all_ Slytherins seemed to have that quality about them. 

A short time later, I continued my quest for an empty seat. I had gotten to the point when I was going to start insisting on having someone move over so I could sit down, even if the compartment was already crowded with more than four people. I was seconds away from asking a girl in a compartment of four to politely move over when she had suddenly screamed, “Fudge!” as a live Chocolate Frog had hopped out of her lap and escaped down the car and into a compartment with a lone boy that looked as if he was having a panic attack, physically shuddering in his seat. His panic had skyrocketed when the Chocolate Frog had hopped into the boy’s compartment and into his lap. He screamed like a banshee, completely terrified that an ordinary piece of chocolate had seemingly come to life. He swatted it out of his lap and immediately stomped on it with the heel of his shoe, turning the frog into a chocolate mess on the floor. He was then left panting for breath out of relief that the frog was dead, but then he had sat back down and buried his face in his hands in apparent shame at what he had done. My eyes widened in shock in the instant that he had squished the frog, and I suddenly didn’t feel like sitting with him anymore; the awkwardness of the whole thing was simply too much for me to handle.

Moving on, I had suddenly heard a familiar laugh from the opposite side of the train car. I followed the laugh to a compartment with two people—a blonde girl I’d never seen before and an all-too-familiar dark-skinned girl with large glasses and a multicolored beanie atop her head.

“Hey, Rowan!” I exclaimed as I approached the compartment out of relief of finally getting to relax my aching legs.

Rowan looked up at me with a confused frown at not recognizing me at first, but when she stared at me for a few more seconds, a bright toothy smile appeared on her face.

“Oh, hey, Jane!” she cried joyously. “I was wondering where you were on the train! I was just telling Penny here about our meeting in Diagon Alley the other day. Come join us!”

After expressing my appreciation to Rowan and sitting down next to her, I glanced to the other girl sitting across from us. She had a very nice complexion that would make boys chase after her, demanding for her phone number. She had eyes that were as blue as the Thames River, and her blonde hair was woven into two long plaits. She was already dressed in the dark Hogwarts robes that we were meant to be wearing before we exited the train. She seemed to have that ‘popular girl’ look about her, but I didn’t get the vibe that she was one of those snooty popular girls that I had often seen in primary school. She seemed like the type of girl that everybody would want to hang with, and not one of those girls that would push away anyone that disgusted her. It gave me the feeling that she might be one of the nicest girls in the school that I will come to know.

“So you’re Penny?” I asked her curiously.

“Yup,” she nodded. “Penny Haywood at your service.” She leaned forward and held out her hand.

“Are you a First-Year too?” I asked as I shook her hand graciously.

“Obviously,” she nodded again. She then gestured to her robes. “As you can see, I’m not wearing my yellow-and-black-striped tie yet.”

“Yellow and black?” I nodded understandingly. “So you’re hoping to be in Hufflepuff?”

“Yup,” she confirmed. She then went on to explain, “My mum was a Hufflepuff, and I hope to be in her house, not just because she thinks I’m the nicest girl she’s ever known but because I actually _find_ myself as an extremely nice girl.” She suddenly paused and looked at Rowan and I awkwardly. “Eh…not to brag, or anything.”

Rowan abruptly shook her head. “No, you’re not bragging. I think you’re the nicest girl I’ve ever known…aside from Jane, of course.” She nudged me in the arm, forcing me to smile.

“Aw, thanks, Rowan,” Penny smiled, feeling touched at her words.

“Was your dad a Hufflepuff too?” I asked to continue the conversation.

A sudden look of shock appeared on Penny’s face, as though I had foolishly crossed a line that I shouldn’t have crossed. _Oops, did I just offend her?_ I feared. “Um…no. He’s…uh…” She seemed to stumble on her words, trying to figure out the best way to explain. “Well, you’d be surprised he’s…he’s a Muggle.”

Rowan’s eyes bulged on the other side of her glasses again. “Your dad’s a _Muggle_?” she asked in disbelief. “You’re barking!”

“No, I’m not,” Penny shook her head seriously. “He works in a bank as an accountant. My mum is…I guess what the Muggles would call a ‘chemist’, but with her being a witch, she actually experiments with potions. She has a dream of becoming a famous Potions Master. I am actually hoping to follow in her footsteps. That’s why the one class I am looking forward to the most is Potions. Mum already taught me the basic potions we’ll learn this year.”

“Wow,” Rowan said, raising her eyebrows in amazement. “It sounds like you’re an expert then.”

“Yeah,” Penny nodded in agreement. “I’m sure our professor will be impressed, whoever he or she is.”

“I bet your dad had a nasty shock when he found out about your mum being a witch,” Rowan pondered aloud. I could only imagine what his reaction could’ve been, which was most likely not a good one.

Penny gave an awkward smile. “Yeah, but I won’t get into the details.” She then turned to me. “So what about you…Jane, was it?”

I nodded. “Yes. Janelle is my full name, but you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

“Okay, Jane it is then,” Penny smiled. “What’s your Wizarding background? Or are you a Half-Blood like me? Or even Muggle-Born? I saw a boy, just a few compartments over, literally cowering under the seats. He told me he was Muggle-Born, but he didn’t seem to want me to sit with him because he was too frightened. Bless him.”

After the incident with the soon-to-be Slytherin boy and girl that mentioned the Cursed Vaults, I had remembered seeing the apparently scared boy in the other compartment—the boy that had squished that Chocolate Frog into mush on the compartment floor. The fact that there wasn’t a single student that was willing to sit with him and help him control his nerves highly upset me. Then again, _I_ was one of those unwilling students as well, and I felt a sudden surge of guilt rush through me. I now wanted so badly to sit with the boy, but for some reason I didn’t think Penny or Rowan wanted to change compartments and face the awkwardness. Plus, Penny had asked me a question, and I wasn’t going to be rude and leave without answering her question, so I decided to stay put. _I’m sure the boy will eventually get over his nerves once we get to Hogwarts, right?_ I wondered.

“I come from a Wizarding family,” I answered. “Both my parents are wizards.”

Penny nodded. “Ah, so you’re a _Pure_ -Blood. Rowan’s a Pure-Blood too.” Then she asked me a question that I had had a fear of answering since getting on the train. “What about siblings? You have any brothers or sisters?”

I turned nervously to Rowan, remembering that I had told her about my family’s cursed history in Diagon Alley. She seemed eager to tell her friend what I had told her about my brother, but I didn’t want her to. Before she could say anything before me, I had decided to lie and say that I was an only child. If Penny actually _was_ one of those gossipy girls that spread rumors all over the school, I certainly didn’t want to deal with the embarrassment that would follow.

I was about to answer when Rowan suddenly spoke up. “She has a brother. His name is Jacob Morgan.”

I looked at her, incredulous that she had revealed the one secret that I didn’t want anybody at school to know about. She immediately covered her mouth and murmured to me, “I’m sorry, was I not allowed to talk about him to other people? I didn’t know.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine,” I sighed, even though I knew it wasn’t. All of this was actually _my_ fault. Thinking back on our meeting in Diagon Alley, I had meant to tell Rowan not to mention my relation to my brother, but I had foolishly forgotten. Then I remembered Rowan mentioning the fact that everybody in school would already know about it from reading the _Daily Prophet_ , and then I had realized that keeping the secret was going to be a long shot. Once something was mentioned in the _Daily Prophet_ , it was impossible to escape from it and pretend that it didn’t happen.

Penny’s eyes widened in shock. “Jacob Morgan? The guy who went looking for the Cursed Vaults and got himself expelled from Hogwarts? _You’re_ his sister?”

I nodded shamefully. “Yeah, but I don’t talk about him; not to other people, anyway.”

“You told _me_ ,” Rowan pointed out needlessly.

 _Only because I felt I **had** to_, I wanted to say but didn’t, _which **isn’t** the point_. I shot her a disapproving look instead, and she looked shamefully away.

“I’m afraid you won’t have much of a choice,” Penny said, shaking her head. “The whole school is going to know about him, and they’ll all come to you for answers.”

“I know,” I nodded glumly. “Once they call my name for the Sorting, everyone’s going to find out who I am. They’ll all think I’m a freak.”

“You’re not a freak, Jane,” Rowan said immediately, shaking her head. “You’re _nothing_ like your brother.”

“You don’t know that,” I countered back at her. “You’ve only known me fifteen minutes—or however long we’ve been in Diagon Alley together—and don’t know a thing about me. For all you know, I could be _cursed_ , just like him.” I suddenly realized that this statement may have sounded a little harsh, but I felt like they needed to know how I was feeling about the situation—a situation that I had never asked to be a part of.

“Who cares?” Rowan said with a shrug.

I frowned at her, feeling slightly offended. “ _I_ do.”

“But I _don’t_ ,” Rowan insisted. She sounded like she was being completely honest, but I didn’t know how to respond to that. “It doesn’t matter who you think you are on the outside; it’s who you are on the _inside_. And personally, I don’t think you’re cursed on the inside. Even if something does end up taking you over, we’ll fight it, and then we’ll save you. Simple as that.”

I raised a doubtful eyebrow at her, but Penny said a little shakily, “Yeah. We’ve got your back, love.”

Blimey, it seemed like my luck couldn’t have gotten any better. One of my biggest goals whilst at Hogwarts was to find out everything that had happened to my brother and find a way to bring him back from wherever he had disappeared to. Ever since he had disappeared, I had had the disturbing feeling like the Cursed Vaults had had something to do with it—that maybe he had gotten ahold of one of the cursed artifacts in one of the vaults, and it had made him mad because he had possessed it for too long, and it had made him unknowingly venture out into the unknown. Stealing had not exactly been anything new with Jacob; I had often caught him stealing from other students throughout primary school when we were kids, and he often got in trouble with the teachers for doing so. The sudden thought of _myself_ getting ahold of one of those cursed artifacts unknowingly sent a cold shudder down my spine, but the hope that there were now _two_ people that would do everything in their power to stop me from taking advantage of these artifacts (especially when they had admitted their intentions of doing so) made me feel more confident and determined to find him.

“Thanks, guys,” I smiled appreciatively. “I’m so glad I met you both. I honestly didn’t think I would make any friends at Hogwarts, but I see now that I was wrong. I met you two, and we’re not even at the castle yet.”

“No, but we’re getting close,” Rowan shook her head as she glanced out the window at the countryside beyond. “Looks like we’re crossing the border into Scotland now. I read in _Hogwarts: A History_ that the castle is somewhere in the Scottish Highlands— _beautiful_ place.”

“How much farther?” Penny groaned. I could see her physically squirming in her seat, anxious to arrive. _Aren’t we **all**?_ I agreed. “I’m starving!”

“Dunno,” Rowan shrugged, “maybe another half-hour. It’s hard to tell where we are now.”

Penny sighed, “Oh, if only this train could Apparate, then we’d already be there by now.”

“I know, right?” Rowan agreed enthusiastically.

I smiled, knowing how incredibly excited I was to attend Hogwarts, but I was also dreading what would happen once my name was called for the Sorting. What would people think of me once that happened? How would the students react? How would the teachers react? How would the _headmaster_ react? If what Rowan said about being half an hour away was true, then I guessed I had that long to wait to find out. 


	5. The Sorting Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody has finally arrived at Hogwarts, but before the school year can really begin, all first-years must be Sorted into their Houses. Which of the four Houses will Jane be Sorted into? Is she brave and chivalrous, cunning and ambitious, witty and wise, or kind and diligent?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been rewritten.
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

“Look!” Rowan pointed excitedly to a large sign that read in bold black lettering ‘ _Hogsmeade Station_.’ “We’re here! Hogsmeade Station!”

The nice blonde girl, Penny Haywood, decided to leave to chat with other students, so Rowan and I had the compartment to ourselves. Shortly after she left, I had decided to change into my Hogwarts robes, since we were not far from the castle, and Rowan was kind enough to close the compartment curtains and stand outside while I changed. After that, Rowan reentered the compartment, and we continued chatting about all the things we were most excited for once arriving to Hogwarts.

Now, forty-five minutes later, the Hogwarts Express was finally pulling into Hogsmeade Station, and Rowan was immediately out of her seat and bolting to the door before the train even came to a complete stop. 

Once the train came to a complete stop, Rowan was the first to exit the train, with me following close behind. We glanced around at the other students departing the train, most walking through an archway that lead into town. I figured that was where we would go in order to get to the castle; Mum said it was a short walk through town, and then we would take rickety carriages pulled by invisible forces to the main entrance of the castle, but I also remembered Mum saying that First-Years had to take boats over a large lake, which was located outside of town (in other words, _not_ through the archway).

Rowan stole the words right out of my mouth. “So where do _we_ go? My parents said not to follow everyone else through the archway. Apparently, First-Years take a different route to the castle.”

I was about to answer when a booming voice echoed through the station, “Firs’-Years! This way please! Come on, Firs’-Years! Don’ be shy!”

We turned to see a tall and exceedingly buff-looking man with a scruffy beard, carrying a large, bright lantern in his meaty hands.

“Merlin’s beard!” Rowan exclaimed in shock upon seeing the man. “That guy is _huge_!”

“He’s a giant,” I explained, recognizing the man. “I think he’s the gamekeeper. My parents told me the gamekeeper of Hogwarts was a giant, though they never mentioned how giant he actually was.”

Rowan laughed. “Ha! I see what you did there. Clever.”

I frowned, puzzled at Rowan’s comment toward mine. “Um…that comment was not meant to be a pun, but never mind. Let’s go.” I was honestly surprised at the man’s largeness as well and had not said my comment as a joke.

We walked toward the giant man and saw several students—possibly other First-Years like us—gathering around him. I smiled at the thought of how the giant man must’ve been thinking about us; we must’ve looked like ants compared to him.

Once all the First-Years had gathered, the giant announced with a wave of a hand, “Alri’, then! This way teh the boats! Come on, follow me!” It was a good thing we decided to follow the giant instead of the upper students; otherwise, we would’ve been in a very embarrassing situation in the near future.

As a group, we walked out of the station and through the dark forest for about ten minutes before we came across a large lake. There were several small boats that were bobbing innocently on its surface as the moonlight reflected off of them. The giant instructed four to a boat, which Rowan and I shared with a dark-skinned boy and a redheaded girl with an Asian complexion. Shortly after everyone was situated to each boat, the boats started moving by themselves across the lake.

In the distance, we could see a large castle standing proudly over the lake, like a queen looking out over her kingdom. I heard the dark-skinned boy, the redheaded girl, and Rowan making sounds of amazement at the majestic-ness of the school, which I instinctively mimicked. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was exactly as I imagined it would be, with its tall towers and ancient brickwork. This place had been in existence for centuries and, amazingly, still continued to impress new witches and wizards today. I didn’t think I would ever see a more beautiful place than this and couldn’t wait to find out what mysterious secrets it held, particularly the Cursed Vaults.

After the fifteen-minute boat ride across the lake, we arrived at a little shack at the base of the cliff that was the Boathouse, where we all dismounted from the boats. Then the giant led us up a large staircase that reached all the way up to the castle and into a small courtyard with a fountain in the center and a massive clock fixed to the castle wall that was facing out over the courtyard, like a judge overlooking his convicts in a Court Room. We followed the giant through large double doors directly under the clock and stopped in front of another set of double doors further inside the castle. He instructed for us to wait here as he slipped quietly through the doors, where, from the other side, we could hear loud but distant chattering from the other students that were from the upper years. We waited there in silence for about two minutes when a tall witch in bright green robes and a large pointy hat entered the hallway from the noisy room beyond the doors. Instead of beckoning us through the doors, she closed them and began a short speech.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said in a calm but stern-sounding voice. I assumed her to be Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor House and Transfiguration professor. “Before the Welcoming Feast, we must Sort all first-year students into their proper houses. The Sorting Ceremony is very important. While you are here, your house will be something like your family. The four houses are called Gryffindor: the brave and chivalrous, Hufflepuff: the kind and diligent, Ravenclaw: the witty and wise, and Slytherin: the cunning and ambitious. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. I hope you all will be fine additions to their ranks. The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily.” She then turned and slipped through the doors, again without beckoning us to follow her inside.

Rather than just stand there, waiting for Professor McGonagall to return, I took the time to observe the other First-Years. It was just as I had expected; they seemed just as nervous as I was. Many of them were just standing there silently, glancing between each other as if they were suspicious of at least one of them making an attempt of committing thievery. Others looked like they were looking for an opportunity to make a break back to the Boathouse and row far away from this place. The boy I spotted from the train that had killed the Chocolate Frog was physically shaking on his feet, looking slightly green around the edges. Some of the kids standing directly behind him had their hands out, preparing to catch the boy if he were to faint at any moment. One thing that was the most unusual to see was the magenta-haired girl, whose face was morphing into various shapes out of anxiousness.

I suddenly heard a loud snort from the chubby-cheeked girl, who, I remembered, had mentioned the Cursed Vaults to the broad-shouldered boy on the train. “Ha!” she sniggered to the boy, spreading her short arms out to us, “Look at all these pussies. There is no doubt that I will be the most important First-Year of the lot.”

Rowan then turned to me and murmured in my ear, “More like she will be the most _hated_ First-Year.” I had to nod in agreement. Even when I first heard Chubby-Cheeks’s voice, I somehow knew I was not going to get along with her. Of course, there are people who would’ve argued that one can never truly know whether someone would be likable or not when using a certain tone of voice, and that first impressions were often wrong; but if that voice was overheard to call someone else a ‘loser,’—like Chubby-Cheeks had said about me—that someone else would beg to differ.

A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall returned and said with a slight smile, “We are ready for you now. Follow me.”

This time when she opened the doors, she beckoned for us to follow her, and we did.

The room was massive. There were thousands—maybe more; there were too many for me to count them all—of candles hanging in midair above the heads of all the students, who were seated at four long tables that reached from the double doors all the way to the other side, where another large table was placed, there seating all the teachers. Professor McGonagall—whose chair at the teacher’s table was empty—led us up to where the teachers were seated and had us stand there with them and the other students facing and staring at us ( _which isn’t creepy in the slightest_ , I thought to myself). To avoid the staring eyes, I looked up past the floating candles and noticed the ceiling that was studded with stars and misty with thin clouds.

“The ceiling’s not real,” I heard Rowan’s voice whisper in my ear. “It’s just bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_.” I nodded my understanding.

“Now, before we begin,” Professor McGonagall spoke up once all First-Years gathered in front of the Great Hall, “Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.”

She stood back as a tall wizard with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles rose up from the middle seat at the teacher’s table. “Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts,” he said in a booming and ancient-sounding voice. “The past few years have been a great weight lifted from our world. The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, is safe. Years from now, young Harry will be old enough to attend Hogwarts. But for now, it’s _your_ turn!” He directed this statement toward us First-Years. “Remember, while you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you House Points, while any rule-breaking will lose House Points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to your house. Let the Sorting Ceremony commence!”

Once the Headmaster’s speech was finished, the Great Hall erupted in cheerful and enthusiastic applause. Many of the First-Years applauded as well, but I was one of very few who did not join in the applause. This was the one thing I was dreading the most throughout the entire journey here. I glanced nervously at the old hat that was perched on a rickety stool that was standing directly in front of the Headmaster’s seat that Professor McGonagall was now approaching while carrying a large scroll with the students’ names in her thin hands. Once my name was called to place that filthy hat on my head and to be Sorted into one of the houses, everyone in the entire school will find out who I am and know about my brother’s expulsion and think of me as ‘mad’ and ‘cursed,’ and who knows what they would do after that. Now I wanted more than ever to make a break for it out of the Great Hall double doors, down the long staircase to the Boathouse, and row far away from here; but if I turned back now, I would be viewed as a coward in front of the whole school. Even if I was able to flee this place and go home, my parents would most likely send me straight back to Hogwarts without allowing me to explain that I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was and would never believe me even if I was able to explain myself. Now that I was here, I had to stay and face whatever challenges were to be thrown at me, and this was one of them.

“ _You won’t know anything unless you learn it for yourself_ ,” my father’s voice echoed in my mind. “ _That is what school is all about_.”

“When I call your name,” Professor McGonagall announced after the applause gradually faded, “you will come forth, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be Sorted into your Houses.” She lifted the Sorting Hat with one hand and held the large scroll with the First-Years’ names with the other. She called for the first name on the list—“Anderson, Aaron!”—and a boy with bright blue eyes and dark hair hesitantly approached the stool, sat down as McGonagall placed the hat on his head, and the hat placed him in his house with a booming voice, “RAVENCLAW!” The table that was filled with students wearing blue-and-silver-striped ties and robes with blue velvet lining and crest bearing the image of a raven erupted in applause as Aaron joined them at their table.

I didn’t recognize anyone until a “Copper, Benjamin” was called, and the nervous blond boy that looked like he was about to faint—who now looked even more so—approached the stool, although he was pushed up by several First-Years because he seemed to refuse to respond the first time his name was called. The Sorting Hat placed him in Gryffindor, which I found very ironic, what with him possibly being the most cowardly of all of us. Then again, this may have been likely to change as the year went on. A minute later, Penny Haywood was called and placed in Hufflepuff like she’d hoped, happily joining the table with students, whose robes had bright yellow lining on the inside and whose crests bore the image of a badger.

Suddenly, “Khanna, Rowan” was called.

“Oh, no, I’m next,” Rowan murmured as she slowly approached the stool. Professor McGonagall gently placed the Sorting Hat on her head, and I had to stifle back a snort as the hat fell forward over her eyes, almost knocking her large glasses off of her face. She readjusted her glasses and pushed the hat back on her head as the hat squealed, “GRYFFINDOR!” The Gryffindor table, whose robes had bright red lining and bore the image of a lion, erupted in applause as Rowan ran to them and took her seat.

I looked behind me. _Not many left now_ , I thought as I noticed that there were now less than fifteen First-Years left to be Sorted. I figured I was going to be one of the first few people who will be called next, because I knew that the letter ‘M’ was not far after the letter ‘K.’

Apparently, I was right, as “Morgan, Janelle” was called immediately after Rowan, and that was when I realized that _I_ was next on the list.

I immediately felt my heart drop at the sound of my name leaving Professor McGonagall’s lips and hanging in the air like a noose. _This can’t be real_ , I thought as the stool moved closer and closer to me, but then I realized the stool wasn’t moving; _I_ was. As I subconsciously approached the stool, I heard quiet murmurs from other students:

“She’s a ‘ _Morgan_.’ Could she be related to that cursed boy from the _Daily Prophet_?”

“She’s _got_ to be his sister. She looks just like him.”

“Even their names are almost the same.”

“I heard her brother went mad. Could she be mad too?”

 _I knew it_ , I thought dismally to myself. Here was the time the criticism would start, the exact second after my name was called. So much for avoiding any talk of my brother. “ _I’m afraid you won’t have much of a choice,_ ” Penny’s voice whispered in my head. “ _The whole school is going to know about him, and they’ll all come to you for answers._ ” Exactly what I _didn’t_ want to happen.

With a heavy heart, I sat on the stool, the wood creaking noisily under my weight, and let Professor McGonagall place the Sorting Hat on my head. The hat had a similar effect on me as Rowan, except it completely covered my eyes and nose.

Once McGonagall’s hand released the hat, I began hearing a deep voice in my head, “Hmmm…very interesting. I haven’t seen one like this in a long time. Plenty of courage, I see…and not a bad mind either. There’s much talent in you, and a thirst to prove yourself, given your brother’s reputation. But where to put you, hmm?”

 _Not Slytherin_ , I thought back to the voice. _Anything but Slytherin_.

“Not Slytherin, eh?” the deep voice replied, and I realized it was the hat speaking. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know; it’s all here in your head. But I understand now. Best make it…GRYFFINDOR!”

I expected a massive applause from the rest of the school, but instead, there was silence—at least silence from everyone but the first-years. This made sense, considering that every person from Year 2 and up (professors included) would be very familiar with my brother’s incident, and those like the first-years would not be so familiar because they were too young to understand what was written in the _Daily Prophet_ , and also would not have grown up with Jacob since he had disappeared last year.

I sighed. At least my name was on the roster, and I was Sorted into at least one of the houses, so obviously I belonged here at Hogwarts. At least, a _part_ of me belonged here, the part of me that wasn’t cursed. If only I wasn’t cursed, then no one would have a problem with me being here and fearing that I would cause trouble like my brother.

 _Oh, Jacob, what have you done?_ I couldn’t help but wonder as I awkwardly approached the Gryffindor table, its occupants—all except for Rowan and Benjamin—staring suspiciously at me, like I was some sort of parasite that they didn’t want contaminating their domain.

All unspoken criticisms aside, I couldn’t help but feel giddy with excitement. At least I was accepted into Hogwarts, despite my brother’s cursed history. I didn’t know who exactly had accepted me— _probably Professor Dumbledore_ , I thought—but obviously this person saw potential in me, like he or she believed that I would prove myself to not be like my brother and to at least try to be an outstanding witch in the years to come. If I ever found out the identity of this mysterious person, I’d be sure to thank him or her. 

“Congratulations, Jane!” Rowan cheered, even after most of the table had stopped applauding at this point. “You’re in Gryffindor! I can’t believe we’re _both_ in Gryffindor! This is the best day ever!”

“I know!” I agreed with a smile. “I can’t believe we’re finally here! It’s just as I imagined it would be and more!” _Well, except for the criticism_ , I thought but didn’t say. 

We continued watching the rest of the First-Years get Sorted into their Houses in silence, which was something I didn’t mind since my heart was beating a million beats per minute. I saw the chubby-cheeked girl—“Snyde, Merula”—get Sorted into Slytherin, which didn’t surprise me in the slightest; I figured that was going to happen based on her snooty attitude. The girl with the magenta hair—“Tonks, Nymphadora”—whose face still continued to morph into various shapes, got Sorted into Hufflepuff, and a boy with bright red hair and freckles got Sorted into Gryffindor. “Atta boy, Charlie!” someone yelled from further down the Gryffindor table as the redheaded First-Year, who was probably the person’s brother, sat across from Rowan and I, looking shocked but relieved. The last person to get Sorted was the boy that Chubby-Cheeks—whose real name was Merula—talked to, named Joshua Zenger, who, also no surprise, got placed in Slytherin.

“Let the Feast begin!” the Headmaster said shortly after Josh took his seat at the Slytherin table next to Merula.

Not long after that, the most magical thing happened. Large metal plates materialized out of nowhere, filled with every kind of food imaginable. Usually at home, Mum and Dad would have the meals already prepared and would simply wave their wands and send the plates of food floating to our table; but here, they just seemed to come into being before the meal was even prepared, like it was taken from the mind and made into something real. Like I normally did during every other meal at home, I piled my plate with food and began eating.

Not long after the meal had started, there was a massive chill in the air next to me, and when I looked, I nearly choked on the piece of chicken leg I was eating, as a ghost of a man with a severed head appeared into existence. Well…the head wasn’t _completely_ severed; part of it was still attached and barely hanging from a small scrap of torn skin that acted as a sort of hinge, like whoever had tried to behead him had done a very poor job. It was still a disturbing sight to see. The sight was even more disturbing for the cowardly blond boy, Benjamin Copper, who had squealed loudly and fainted into the large bowl of tomato soup he was eating. When his head had made contact with the bowl, some of the red liquid had splashed out of the bowl and onto the table; some even splashed onto Rowan’s plate of food, which she didn’t seem to notice.

“Welcome, First-Years!” the ghost said in a cheery voice, paying no attention to poor Ben. “Apologies for startling you, my dear.” He had directed this statement toward me. “I had to readjust my head back into place. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower!”

“Hey! I know you!” the redheaded freckled boy—Charlie—said suddenly. “My brother told me about you! You’re Nearly Headless Nick!”

“I prefer _Sir_ _Nicholas_ , if you don’t mind,” the ghost said stiffly.

“ _Nearly_ Headless?” Rowan said with a raised eyebrow, looking up from her plate. “How can you be _nearly_ headless?”

I frowned incredulously at her and was about to say something, but Charlie stole the words right out of my mouth. “Do you _really_ want him to pull his head off again?”

“What?” Rowan’s eyes bulged behind her glasses again. “He pulled his head off? I hadn’t noticed. I was eating.” She seemed to be telling the truth, as she had said that with her mouth completely full of baked potato. She looked expectantly at Nearly Headless Nick, as if to invite him to behead himself again, but, luckily for Charlie and I, he was already gliding down to the opposite side of the table, greeting the upper students as he did so. Shortly after the ghost left, Charlie was nice enough to pull Ben’s head out of his soup bowl and gently place him on his napkin on the table next to his bowl. Ben, surprisingly, remained comatose even after he was moved.

Half an hour later—luckily at this point, Ben Copper was awake, albeit with tomato soup staining his blond hair—Professor McGonagall announced the end of the feast and ordered the Prefects to escort their Houses to their dormitories. “Anyone out after curfew will be given severe consequences, so no dawdling,” she said in a stern voice. “Get some good rest tonight; classes begin first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I’m dying to see our Common Room!” Rowan said as she excitedly rose from the now clear table; the plates of food vanished three minutes earlier. “Let’s go check it out!”

We heard a girl’s voice yell for all Gryffindors to follow her, and we did with great eagerness. The Prefect girl led us out of the Great Hall and up a grand staircase that had small sections of stairs that moved in different directions. “Keep an eye on the staircases,” the Prefect warned us as we ascended. “They like to change.” There were even pictures hung on every wall that moved and whispered as we walked past them.

Eventually, the Prefect halted in front of a large portrait of a fat woman in a pink silk dress.

“Password?” the fat woman asked in a misty voice.

“Snargaluff,” said the Prefect in answer, and the portrait immediately began swinging open, revealing a narrow doorway with a large room inside. The Prefect stepped through the portrait hole, and we followed closely behind her.

We entered a very cozy and much quieter room that was filled with squishy armchairs and sofas of red velvet fabric. A large fireplace was fixed into the wall in one corner of the room, and several moving portraits hung on every wall above everyone’s heads.

The Prefect, whose name was Angelica Cole, gave a welcoming speech of her own—of course, not as extravagant of a speech as the one Professor Dumbledore gave in the Great Hall—as we all gathered around the Gryffindor Common Room with awestruck faces. She gave a brief description of what life was like here and a brief tour of the dorms. She even added a few extra announcements to her speech, such as never to wander into the Forbidden Forest, to not use magic outside of class, to watch out for a poltergeist named Peeves, etcetera. Then she ended the speech by handing out everyone’s class schedules before sending us to bed.

“I’m so happy we both got put in Gryffindor, Jane,” Rowan said as most of the Gryffindors ascended the small spiral staircase to the dorm rooms. “Would you like to hear an exclusive history of our house, including a comprehensive biography of our house founder, which our Prefect apparently failed to mention?”

“For now, let’s just take it all in…” I said as I took a deep breath. The room smelt of apples and cinnamon, which reminded me of Mum’s homemade Apple Pie she always baked for Christmas.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Rowan sighed contently as she warmed her hands by the fire. “Even better than I imagined…”

“It really is amazing,” I agreed with a thoughtful nod. “I can’t wait to meet our fellow Gryffindors!”

Suddenly, there was a loud grunt from a boy, who looked about the age of fourteen, who was sitting with his legs crossed on the sofa next to the window. “I can’t believe they even let _you_ in here after your brother got expelled and ruined Gryffindor’s reputation,” he growled at me with an intense glare.

“Jane will be an _outstanding_ Gryffindor!” Rowan yelled at him in a sudden outrage. “I’m assuming _you_ aren’t, since you spend your time bullying first-years.”

“Whatever,” the boy snorted back at her, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be keeping an eye on _both_ of you.” He then got up from his spot on the sofa and ascended the spiral staircase to the dorms without another word.

I sighed. Before today, I thought it was going to be easy for me to make new friends and fit in, but now that I’ve found out that everyone in the school apparently knew about my brother’s expulsion—which, apparently, had put a bad rap on Gryffindor House—people were going to think I would do the exact same things that my brother did while he was still at school here and get into the same trouble he got into. In other words, they thought I was going to ruin Gryffindor’s rep even more. I had a feeling this was going to be a common issue whilst I was here.

“Sorry,” Rowan apologized as if she sensed my despondency. “I know you asked me to follow your lead back in Diagon Alley, but I can’t let anyone talk to my friend like that.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Rowan. Something tells me that won’t be the last time someone brings up my brother.” Not wanting to talk about my brother anymore, I asked, “Have you had a chance to look at your timetable?”

“Yes!” Rowan said excitedly. “Can you believe it? Herbology with Professor Sprout, Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall… What are you most looking forward to, Jane?”

I sighed. “I just want to learn spells and potions as fast as possible, so I can use them to find my brother and make sure he’s okay.” I knew I didn’t want to mention my brother again, but I couldn’t help worrying about him. I mean, he could be in terrible danger, for all I knew.

Rowan nodded thoughtfully. “Well, we’ll learn some really useful and powerful spells in Charms Class. Luckily, we have Charms Class with Professor Flitwick first thing tomorrow!” Suddenly, a massive yawn escaped her lips. “Anyway, I’m going to go to bed. You coming?”

As we ascended the stairs, I couldn’t stop an equally massive yawn from escaping my own lips. It had been a very exciting day, and I was ready to get some good sleep that night; for who knew what other exciting things awaited me in the days to come. 


	6. Charms, Potions, and Bullies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say the first day is always the toughest. How will Jane cope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

That night, I had a dream.

I was walking through an unfamiliar corridor that was dimly lit with torches fixed in large five-feet tall podiums that were spaced out along the walls about twenty feet from one another, and several portraits of snoring witches and wizards were hung so close to each other that the wall behind the portraits almost could not be seen at all. From the looks of the occupants in the portraits, I guessed I was in one of the old corridors of Hogwarts, though this looked like a corridor I had never seen before. A sudden cold breeze blew through the corridor, sending an icy chill up my spine. I took an anxious exhale, and I saw my breath come out in a puff of icy mist. The sight made me instinctively tighten my nightie around my shoulders.

All was quiet, except for the light crackling of the fires fixed in the podiums on either side of the corridor, for another few moments until I heard the most disturbing cry from an all-too-familiar male voice coming from further down the dark corridor: “ _Jane!_ ”

“Jacob?” I shouted back frantically, realizing that his voice sounded like he was in trouble. “Jacob, is that you?” Despite the strange fact that it was starting to get colder, I continued walking, a little faster, down the corridor, determined to find the owner of the troubled cries. I then started noticing that the portraits and tapestries were beginning to glaze over with an eerie glassy substance. I hesitantly touched one of the velvet tapestries and instantly realized the substance was ice.

I frowned in apparent confusion. _What the_ —

“ _Jane!_ ” Jacob’s voice—or what I _assumed_ to be Jacob’s voice—cried, a bit louder this time. I must have been getting close to his location, but I wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. “ _Help me!_ ”

“Jacob!” I shouted anxiously. “I’m coming! Where are you?” This time, I began running down the corridor, and I then realized that the further I ran, the darker and colder the corridor became. I squinted in the darkness and realized that the torches further away from me were no longer lit, and I could’ve sworn a few seconds ago, those torches were still lit. Before I could question what possibly could’ve snuffed out the torches, my legs suddenly slipped out from under me, and I fell backwards to the floor, sliding a few feet across the floor even after I fell. In confusion, I looked down and noticed that the floor was covered in a thick layer of ice. In apparent horror, I instantly looked up to find the portraits and tapestries on the walls also covered in ice. Some of the torches nearest to me extinguished themselves when the ice spread across the top of the podiums.

“What the hell?” I cried in apparent confusion and horror.

“ _Jane!_ ” Jacob’s voice called again through the darkness, but his voice sounded further away, like I had somehow taken the wrong turn. That seemed to definitely be the case, because this corridor was filling with ice that not only could’ve been possibly cursed but also very deadly. I knew I had to get out of here, or I would surely freeze to death. I was already starting to feel hypothermic in my feet, legs, and arms.

As I struggled to stand up due to the icy floor, I suddenly saw the ice start to spread across my hand, turning it a deep blue color, and up my arm. In a panic, I tried to move my hand, but my hand was apparently stuck in place and had lost all of its feeling. I tried to move other parts of my body, but the ice had spread over most of my body and was now beginning to spread across my chest. I then started to have massive trouble breathing.

“Jacob!” I choked out in panic as I watched helplessly as the ice was encasing me into a frozen cocoon. “Help me!” The last thing I saw before I was completely enveloped in the ice was the light from a nearby torch going out, and I plunged into infinite darkness while I still heard Jacob’s screams grow fainter and fainter.

“ _Jane! Jane, it’s too late! Jane…Jane…_ ”

***

“Jane!”

I suddenly woke to find Rowan lightly shaking me awake from my icy slumber.

“Rowan!” I frowned, puzzled, while rubbing my blurry eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I could ask you the same,” she said anxiously, her dark wavy hair wild. “Are you alright? You looked like you were having a nightmare. I had to wake you from it before you woke up all of Gryffindor Tower.” After the blurriness subsided, I could see she was already fully dressed in her black Hogwarts robes, inlaid with red velvet lining, the iconic color of Gryffindor. Her large glasses were also fixed firmly on her face, and she was in mid-process of combing her hair with a bristly hairbrush.

“How long have you been up?” I asked, somewhat thankful I hadn’t woken her up due to my apparent screaming; although I wasn’t sure if I had woken up anyone else in our dorm room. I glanced over at some of the other girls who were still sound asleep, and I felt a slight pang of relief.

“A while,” Rowan confirmed. “I’ve been just sitting here waiting for you to wake up, but since you were seemingly having a nasty nightmare, I felt I had to wake you myself.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled shamefully. Considering I gave her—and possibly a few others—quite a fright, I instantly felt the need to apologize.

“It’s okay,” Rowan said in an assuring tone, “you seem to be fine now.” She then sat down on the bed next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, it’s still early, so we still have time to get breakfast in the Great Hall before our first class ever, Charms. I’m anxious to explore around the castle a bit as well. Hurry up and get dressed so we can eat.”

“Okay,” I nodded before I got out of bed and started getting ready for our first day of classes. Twenty minutes later, we headed down to the Great Hall together, Rowan’s arm clinging to mine out of excitement.

During breakfast, I struggled to contain the excitement within me. Today was the first day of classes, and I was finally going to learn exciting new spells and potions and meet new friends. I couldn’t think of any other place I would rather be at that exact moment.

I also couldn’t wait to discover Hogwarts’ hidden mysteries, particularly the Cursed Vaults. Ever since my brother disappeared, I had always been curious to find out what exactly had made him disappear, whether it was a cursed artifact from one of the vaults, or that You-Know-Who had somehow captured him right after he was expelled. Whilst I was here, I had planned to ask other people—particularly any upperclassmen who may have been growing up with Jacob while he was still at school here—and see if they knew anything about Jacob’s behavior during his pursuit of the vaults. Perhaps he may have shared some information about the vaults with his closest friends, and if I were to find out who his closest friends were—assuming _they_ were still at school here—I might be able to find out just what happened to him. Or, if Jacob hadn’t shared anything about the vaults with anyone, maybe I could follow in his exact footsteps and find out that way; although I was going to be more careful to not get caught, assuming that was how Jacob got expelled. I had hoped that today, I would get lucky and find out something about my brother’s disappearance and how to bring him back.

“What was it like?” Rowan suddenly asked with a mouthful off scrambled eggs.

“What was what like?” I asked, puzzled.

“Your dream,” Rowan confirmed. “What was it like? Maybe if you talk to me about it, it could help you feel better.”

In that moment, I thought about telling Rowan about my disturbing dream of the ice and hearing Jacob’s voice calling to me from who-knows-where, but some voice in the back of my mind, for some reason, told me not to say anything about it in fear of Rowan thinking of me as a freak.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Rowan. It was just a dream, nothing more.”

“Are you sure?” Rowan said doubtfully with a raised eyebrow. “You sounded pretty desperate. I heard you whisper your brother’s name a couple of times, like you were looking for him; and then you started screaming for help, like something was attacking you.”

“I’m sorry, Rowan,” I lied again, “I don’t remember. It was just a dream; it’s nothing to worry about.”

“But I’m worried about _you_ ,” Rowan said in an insistent tone. “I mean your brother is _missing_. You said you were really close to him up until he started obsessing over the Cursed Vaults, and then he just vanished without a trace.”

“I know,” I nodded, “and I appreciate you thinking about me, Row; but you don’t need to worry about me _or_ my brother. That’s only for _me_ to worry about, not you.” I didn’t want Rowan to involve herself in my problems, knowing it could possibly get her in trouble…or worse.

She sighed. “I know, but it just seems unhealthy for you to be constantly worrying about him.” Changing the subject, she said with a smile, “So, Charms Class in half an hour…what spell are you most looking forward to learning?”

I sighed. “Oh, far too many to count. I just hope there’s at least one spell we’ll learn that will be useful to finding my brother.”

“I’m sure you will,” Rowan nodded in understanding. “Supposedly today, we’re learning _Lumos_. That should be incredibly useful if you’re searching in a dark place.”

That statement made me instantly think of that dark corridor I wandered through in my dream that was filling with ice. If I had known that charm in the dream and used it, what could I have possibly seen in the darkness? That same cold shiver I had felt in my dream crept up my spine at that very moment, and it seemed like it was never going to go away after that.

***

“Good morning, young First-Years!” said an incredibly short wizard as Rowan and I entered the Charms Classroom not long after we finished breakfast. It was a miracle we didn’t get lost in this massive castle, with many corridors looking so similar. “I hope you are looking forward to your first Charms lesson!”

“Pleased to meet you, Professor Flitwick,” I smiled in reply. “I’m really looking forward to Charms.”

“Ah, you’re Miss Janelle Morgan!” Professor Flitwick said with a flicker of recognition. “If you’re anything like your brother, you will do just fine. He was one of my most skilled students. On another hand, he was also one of my most _rebellious_ students.” His expression then turned to one of suspicion. “Are you going to follow the rules?”

Without really knowing what to say, I just said the one thing that popped into my head right then and there. “Um, I’ll do my best to follow the rules, but I can’t make any guarantees.”

Professor Flitwick raised an eyebrow at my words, and I suddenly realized that what I said may not have been the best thing to say, especially to a teacher. The first day of classes was supposed to be a day of making a good first impression on everyone I would meet, student and professor alike, and the exact words I just said—or anything similar—did not live up to that expectation, nor was it going to prove that I was not going to be like my troublesome brother.

“Hmm…very well, Miss Morgan. Please have a seat. Class is about to begin.”

 _Well that went well_ , I thought dismally to myself as I sat at one of the side wooden benches that looked vaguely like pews in a church.

“It’s alright, Jane,” Rowan assured me, and I realized I had said what I thought I had said in my head out loud. “I’m sure he knew you actually meant to say something like, ‘Are you kidding? Of _course_ I’m gonna follow the rules!’ but because you were nervous, it didn’t come out the way you expected. Maybe you’ll impress him with your Charms skills after today’s class, and everything will get better.”

“I feel I have no choice but to hold you to that, Rowan,” I said with a hint of doubt.

“I _know_ that’s what’s gonna happen,” Rowan insisted as she opened her _Standard Book of Spells_ book. “I can feel it in my bones. You gotta think positive, Jane; otherwise it’ll get you nowhere.”

As the rest of the students were filing into the classroom, I glanced around to see if I recognized anyone. The magenta-haired girl came in and sat down with a small group of friends on the pew in front of Rowan and I, her hair looking like a rat’s nest and apparently out of breath; _she must’ve slept in this morning_ , I thought. Shortly after she sat down, I saw the chubby-cheeked Slytherin girl with the orange streak in her hair sit on the opposite pew from us, snickering with other Slytherin students, and I couldn’t help but think disapprovingly, _great,_ she’s _in this class?_ A short while later, Professor Flitwick closed the classroom door with a wave of his wand and climbed up a large pile of books in front of the window. Before he began speaking, he also waved his wand at the window to close the curtains, plunging the room into almost total darkness except for the lamps illuminating the pews at which we were seated, which confused everyone.

“Welcome to your very first Charms Class at Hogwarts,” Flitwick said cheerfully. “I will be your instructor, Professor Flitwick. Please pay close attention to the instructions, and take great care practicing the spells you learn. Today we will be learning a very important spell known as the Wand-Lighting Charm. This charm is useful in dark places, whether you are searching a shadowy room for hidden dangers…or trying to find a scroll rolled under the sofa. _Lumos_!” He waved his wand, and a bright white light appeared at the tip, momentarily blinding everyone, but amazing everyone as well. “Now it’s your turn to give it a try,” Professor Flitwick continued. “You’re probably wondering how. I’ll explain it to you. Listen closely…”

About halfway through the lecture, I heard a Gryffindor boy behind me say smugly, “Being in the chivalrous house means I can get away with _anything_.” Suddenly thinking about my brother, I shook my head, thinking the belief to be stupid. Jacob must’ve had this exact thought whilst he was pursuing the Cursed Vaults, but he let his arrogance get the better of him, which ultimately got him expelled. That’s the thing about chivalry—it doesn’t always work, and it certainly doesn’t mean one can get away with anything; because the truth is, they _can’t_. No one can _ever_ get away with anything. Anyone with a thought process like this often are the ones that get hurt…or much worse. God knows what it had done to my brother.

By the end of the class period, I was starting to get the hang of the Wand-Lighting Charm…or at least the incantation and wand movement. In the beginning, I was able to light my wand tip for a few seconds before it would snuff itself out, but after a while, I was able to make the wand stay lit for longer than a minute. At this point, I was confident that my wand would stay lit for the entire rest of the class time. When Professor Flitwick said, “It’s time to cast the Wand-Lighting Charm,” I was confident enough to volunteer to light my wand first. “Off you go then,” he instructed me, and I prepared to cast my first charm.

“ _Lumos_!” I cried as I waved my wand, and I couldn’t help but grin as the tip of my wand lit with the brightest white light I had ever seen. Many people, including Professor Flitwick, shielded their eyes from the blinding light that I had conjured from my wand tip. “Whoa!” I exclaimed with shock and amazement.

“Well done, Miss Morgan,” Professor Flitwick praised me. “That’s the best execution of the Wand-Lighting Charm I’ve seen from a first-year in quite some time. Ten points to Gryffindor!” Every First-Year Gryffindor cheered happily.

Wow! I got House Points in my very first class! And here I thought I was going to blind everyone to death, or not conjure any light at all, but it actually _worked_!

“Nice work, Jane!” Rowan congratulated me after I cast _Nox_ , the counter-spell that put the light out. “I read everything I could find on the Wand-Lighting Charm, and yours was still better. You’re a natural. _Told_ ya you’d impress him!”

My excitement suddenly diminished as a disturbing realization dawned on me. Earlier that morning, I had heard the stories of what the professor that taught Potions was like; he was not a very nice guy, and certainly not one that would be willing to give House Points to anyone who was not in Slytherin, which he was the Head of. Before I cast the Wand-Lighting Charm, I had dreaded to think of what Professor Flitwick would do if I had failed it. After hearing the rumors of what Professor Severus Snape would do to people who failed his potions—which, I heard, were even worse than any of the typical punishments that Muggle children would be given—I was not feeling so confident anymore.

“Potions is next,” I said nervously. “I have a feeling facing Snape won’t be so easy…”

Right after Professor Flitwick announced the end of the lesson, I had the unfortunate accident of catching the eye of the chubby-cheeked Slytherin girl, who glared at me with a murderous stare. I actually meant ‘murderous,’ because she looked like she literally wanted to murder me on the spot as we exited the classroom. I dreaded to think of what would happen if, in one of our other classes, I had won more House Points and ‘stolen her thunder again,’ so to speak. I didn’t think I wanted to find out.

***

Toward the end of lunch, about fifteen minutes before our next class, I had remembered that I had forgotten my Potions textbook and had to retrieve it from the dorm. Rowan volunteered to come with me, but since she already had her book, I told her to go straight to the Dungeons once she was done eating and I would meet her there, as it would take me a few extra minutes to go back to the dorm and get my book. I ran back to Gryffindor Tower immediately after.

Once I got my Potions book—I had, at least, remembered to bring my cauldron—I jogged down to the Dungeons, which was, in my opinion, the coldest part of the entire castle. The Dungeons were also dimly lit, almost to the point where one would feel required to use _Lumos_ to navigate; even the green-tinted torches hanging along every wall weren’t enough light. I continued jogging through the cold and barely lit hallways until I heard the voices of two girls shouting at each other from around the corner. As I rounded the corner, I saw Rowan being verbally abused by the chubby-cheeked Slytherin girl right outside the Potions Classroom.

“Say it!” Chubby-Cheeks yelled furiously in Rowan’s face, her horrible breath fogging up her glasses. “Go on! Say I’m the most powerful witch at Hogwarts! _Say it_!”

“I can’t!” Rowan shouted back in apparent panic. “It’s logically impossible! I’ve made numerous lists of the most powerful witches at Hogwarts based on multiple factors. You’re less powerful than Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey, every single seventh-year… You’re just a _first-year_ like me!”

“I’m _nothing_ like you!” the nasty Slytherin said, taking an aggressive step towards Rowan with her wand pointing—practically shoving—right under her chin. “Say it _now_ before I give you a pair of buckteeth to go with those ridiculous glasses!”

That was the final straw. I couldn’t just let this happen to Rowan any longer. Any longer, and Rowan might surely have to wear massive buckteeth for the rest of the day, possibly even the rest of the _year_. If anyone was going to be receiving buckteeth from this awful girl between the two of us, it was going to be _me_.

“Hey!” I shouted as I advanced on Chubby-Cheeks with an aggressive stare. “Leave her alone!” I shoved her by the shoulders, and she stumbled backwards a few steps.

“Ugh! Who do you think you are?” Chubby-Cheeks spat at me with a disgusted growl. “No one shoves me away; certainly not a puny-nosed eavesdropper like _you_!” These words instantly made me remember the moment on the Hogwarts Express, when she and the other Slytherin boy mentioned the ‘Morgan Incident,’ and she had caught me listening in to her conversation. The possible fact that this girl could also be in pursuit of the Cursed Vaults, just like my brother, sent a shiver down my spine.

“You may recall earlier today that Professor Flitwick said _she_ cast the best Wand-Lighting Charm of any first-year,” Rowan said with high praise, nodding to me. She was seemingly now regaining her confidence, mainly because the fight was now two against one. “If anyone should be claiming to be the best witch, it should be _Jane_!”

“ _Jane_?” Chubby-Cheeks raised a skeptical eyebrow at me. She looked me up and down, sizing me up, and then rolled her eyes in apparent recognition. “Oh, _now_ I know exactly who you are. You’re Janelle Morgan, Jacob Morgan’s freak sister. Your brother lost his mind, disgraced his house, got expelled from school, and was never heard from again. You clearly belong in Gryffindor, since the majority of your family were Gryffindors; although, if I had _my_ way, I’d have Sorted you into the Nuthouse of Cursed Freaks. _That_ is where you truly belong.”

“And…who the hell are _you_ to tell me what House I should belong in?” I said with a roll of my eyes. I was really starting to get fed up with this girl, and my patience was wearing incredibly thin as well.

“Merula Snyde!” she said in an obvious tone. “First-year Slytherin! The _best_ witch at Hogwarts!”

“Not anymore, from what I’ve read about her parents in the _Daily Prophet_ ,” Rowan murmured in my ear loud enough for Merula—I had _much_ preferred to call her ‘Chubby-Cheeks’—not to hear. I was about to ask her what she meant by that, but I immediately realized now was not the best time to ask. I made a mental note to ask about it after Merula was out of earshot.

“I overheard the professors whispering about you at the Feast last night,” Merula said snootily in my face, as if the very thought would scare me—which it didn’t, but it did, however, concern me a little, making me wonder what sorts of things they could be talking about me. Either that was true, or Merula was totally lying to take some advantage over me, which I was never going to let happen. “I suppose you think you’re better than me. I should put you out of your misery before you ruin Hogwarts like your brother tried to.”

I sighed, desperately wanting this pointless torture to be over already. “Okay, I don’t know what you have against me or my family, but I promise, I just want to learn spells and potions like everybody else. I don’t want any trouble, especially not from you.” It was the truth. The more spells and potions I learned, the more knowledge I would obtain to use them to find my brother, and I certainly was not going to allow Merula to distract me from reaching that goal.

“You don’t have a choice,” Merula sniggered, shaking her head. “You don’t stand a chance against anything in those Cursed Vaults…if they even exist. You’re just as worthless as all the rest of the lousy First-Years.”

“You’re just afraid I’m more powerful than you!” I snapped back. It was like something else had taken over my lips and made me say those words. I couldn’t stop them from coming out of my mouth, and yet they did anyway, and I had no control. I wondered if this was what Ollivander was talking about when he sensed there was a lot of fight in me. Apparently I had no control of my mouth when it came to anger.

In apparent disgust, Merula growled, raising her wand, “We can find out who’s more powerful right _now_!” She took an aggressive step forward, and I took an equally aggressive step towards her, blocking Rowan from any spells Merula might cast at us.

Before a duel would ensue between us, a stern male voice called from the shadows behind Rowan and I, “ _Morgan_! I _knew_ you would be trouble.”

“Professor Snape!” Merula gasped in mock surprise, swiftly concealing her wand under the sleeve of her green-clad robes.

Rowan and I abruptly turned to see a tall man with shoulder-length black hair and even darker robes standing behind us, stabbing at our hearts with eyes of sharp daggers.

I stood forward. “Merula was bullying my friend, Professor. I was jus—”

“Get to Potions Class,” Professor Snape demanded in a careless tone. “Be thankful you aren’t headed to detention.” He then stomped into the Potions Classroom. Merula followed close behind, but not before giving us a snooty smirk as she walked past.

“Thanks for standing up for me, Jane,” Rowan sighed in relief after both Merula and Snape were out of earshot. “I’ve never been very strong or any good at making friends. I’m glad that you and I are both in Gryffindor.”

“Did you hear what Merula said?” I said, feeling slightly offended as I stared after Merula. “Why would the professors be talking about me?” I then turned back to Rowan and asked under my breath, “Also, what was it you read about Merula’s parents in the _Daily Prophet_?”

“I don’t know why the professors would be talking about you,” Rowan said, shaking her head. “About Merula’s parents, I’ll tell you after class— _away_ from Merula…like, _far_ away. Right now, we’d better get to Potions. We’re in enough trouble as it is.”

Because Rowan and I were the last two students to enter the classroom, of course the last two seats available were at the table right next to the one person I had no intention of sitting near: Merula Snyde. _As if this day couldn’t get any worse,_ I thought dismally to myself as I reluctantly took my seat next to Merula.

“This is your first Potions Class,” Professor Snape said in a bored tone, “and based on the bewildered look in your eyes, this could very well be your last. Unlike your other classes, this is not a place for foolish wand-waving and intolerable screeching of mispronounced incantations. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. Ensnare the senses. Bewitch the mind. _Keep your mouths shut_. Today you will produce a simple Cure for Boils Potion. Know that I expect perfection, and know that there will be severe consequences for failing to meet my expectations. Let us begin.”

 _Sheesh, this guy is cranky_ , I thought with a disapproved frown. Potions was one of the many classes I was most looking forward to this year, but so far it had become my least favorite class, because I had to be stuck in the class for two whole hours with the grouchiest professor and the meanest student in the school. I honestly didn’t know how I was going to survive this year with these two, but at least I had Rowan on my side.

About fifteen minutes into the tedious lecture, I noticed that Merula was failing to contain her obvious laughter. She was snorting under her breath while glancing at my cauldron, as if she had secretly hexed my cauldron into making funny faces—or a series of profound obscenities about me—appear on its surface that only she could see. Her eyes then shifted to the shelf behind me and back to my cauldron again, and her laughter increased slightly in volume and pitch.

I couldn’t help myself asking, “What’s so funny?”

“You think you’re so special,” she snorted, “but you’re already guaranteed to fail, Morgan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I frowned at her.

Merula’s laughter increased to a high-pitched squeak as she smiled mischievously, “You’ll see.”

I suddenly felt a nudge from Rowan as she murmured, “Ignore her, Jane. After getting reprimanded by Snape, we need to brew this potion perfectly.”

Snape must have overheard us, because he raised his voice and said, luckily without turning around, “Do _not_ make me repeat myself. _Focus_!” Those words hit me like a stab to the chest, and I had no problem staying quiet during the entire rest of the class, as long as Merula agreed to keep her nasty mouth shut as well. She at least was able to do that much, but she could not, however, contain her laughter and prevent her eyes from moving between the shelf and my cauldron. I risked a quick glance behind me, but all I could see were the bottles of powdery potion ingredients sitting innocently on the shelf. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary about them that Merula could possibly be interested in. For all I knew, she could be laughing at an imaginary friend.

The Cure for Boils Potions was, surprisingly, quite an easy potion to brew. The instructions in the textbook were very simple to follow, and the potion ingredients were not so difficult to find. The only problem I had with the hands-down exercise was making sure that Merula wasn’t doing anything to purposefully mess up my potion. I couldn’t exactly watch Merula and gather my ingredients at the same time, and Rowan wasn’t technically obligated to watch her either, so I felt paranoid whenever I had to leave my work station to gather more ingredients. Over all though, the potion went very smoothly.

I couldn’t help feeling incredibly proud once I finished the last step of the instructions. “I did it!” I cried happily. “I brewed my first potion!”

“Congratulations, Jane!” Rowan smiled. “In all my research, hardly anyone ever brews this potion correctly on their first try.”

“Hmm…” Snape said as he leaned over my potion for inspection. “Perhaps Morgan isn’t absolutely incompetent after all.”

“Thank you, Professor!” I couldn’t help smiling. The entire time, I thought I was going to somehow screw up the potion, but I actually brewed it perfectly on my first try without fail! I never felt more proud of myself, even when I had impressed Professor Flitwick with the Wand-Lighting Charm.

Suddenly, I noticed something strange happening in my cauldron. The potion had started to boil on its own and change to a disgusting green color. “What the hell!” I exclaimed in confusion. “What’s happening to my potion?”

I instantly heard Merula start sniggering loudly again, and I was about to ask her about it when Rowan spoke up in a nervous tone, “Did you add Bulbadox Powder? From my studies, this looks like the beginnings of the explosive reaction caused by adding Bulbadox Powder.” As she said these words, she was cautiously backing away from the table and looking prepared to duck and cover.

At this point, the cauldron was boiling at an alarming rate, large bubbles appearing like warts on a hag’s dry skin. The cauldron even started hissing and wailing like a tea kettle, and I saw many students turn their heads toward me, Slytherins with keen interest and non-Slytherins with concern. I was speechless, and my body had somehow become a lifeless statue as my brain was having trouble processing what was going on. I couldn’t do anything but watch as my cauldron began shaking on its stumps and a giant green cloud rising up from the rim, like smoke from a volcano that was seconds away from erupting.

“Do something, Jane!” Rowan cried in sheer panic.

Before I could ask what I could possibly do to stop what was about to happen next, my cauldron suddenly exploded into several pieces, sending its contents spilling everywhere on the table and floor, and a cloud of green mist rose into the air in a vague mushroom shape.

Merula laughed harder than ever. “Congratulations. You have cured the table of boils.” All other Slytherins began laughing with her.

“You should have _never_ been allowed inside my classroom, Morgan!” Snape shouted in an apparent outrage. “You are somehow even _worse_ than your brother. _Twenty_ points from Gryffindor! What do you have to say for yourself?”

I couldn’t believe that just happened. My cauldron _exploded_ into a million pieces in front of the entire class, and I had absolutely no idea what had caused it! I knew for a fact I had followed the instructions exactly as they were written in the book; there was no way I accidentally missed a step… _did I?_

And where the hell did _Bulbadox Powder_ come from? That was not on the list of ingredients.

 _Unless_ …

 _Merula_! She had been glancing back and forth between my cauldron and the bottles of powdery potion ingredients behind me. I’ll bet _that_ was where the Bulbadox Powder had come from. She must have sneakily poured the stuff into my cauldron while I was getting the other ingredients. Maybe I _should’ve_ forced Rowan to watch her after all.

I figured if I blamed Merula for this mess, Snape might surely have taken more House Points away. He had already taken away all the points that Professor Flitwick had granted me that morning (five points for answering a question correctly during the lecture, and ten points for my flawless spell-casting), which were my first points of the year, and I had lost all of them plus five extra for this. I couldn’t help but think whether Professor Flitwick sensed those points were taken away and was now disappointed in me for allowing this to happen, even when this was most likely _not_ my fault.

I said the only thing I could say. “I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t know what happened with my potion. I didn’t mean to let you down, sir.”

Snape sighed with a roll of his eyes. “You didn’t let me down, Morgan. My expectations for you are incredibly low. Clean up this mess immediately before I deduct more House Points! And tonight, you will return to the classroom and redo the potion, this time _without_ fail, and you will use one of the school cauldrons in place of your own cauldron if you can’t get it fixed in time. The rest of you, dismissed! I’ve had enough of all of you for one day.” He eventually walked away without another word.

“It’s only going to get worse, Morgan,” Merula sniggered loudly. “You should’ve known that coating your cauldron with Bulbadox Powder would make your potion explode. _I_ certainly did.”

“ _You_ did this!” I growled spitefully at her with tears pricking my eyes. I wanted so badly to jinx her where she stood, but that would get me in even more trouble.

“Maybe I did,” Merula continued sniggering, “but you, nor your little bookworm, have no proof of that. Now there’s no doubt that I’m the most important first-year, and you’re nothing but a _disgrace_ just like your brother. Thanks for putting on a good show, Morgan.” She laughed hysterically with her Slytherin friends as they left the classroom.

I couldn’t contain my anger any longer. Hot tears started running down my cheeks as I began carefully picking up the broken shards of my cauldron and placing them in my book bag. I planned to ask another student who knew any repairing spells to fix my cauldron later.

“I’m sorry, Jane,” Rowan said sympathetically as she laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure you did your best on that potion. Come on, we should get back to the Common Room before we get in any more trouble. I’m sure there’s an upper Gryffindor student that can use _Reparo_ to fix your cauldron. Maybe our Prefect could help.”

“Our Prefect?” I asked in dismay, wiping my eyes on my robe sleeve. “That’s exactly the person I _don’t_ want to see right now.” The last thing I wanted was to be reprimanded by our Prefect about the loss of House Points— _twenty_ House Points to be exact, which now put me at a negative amount (if there was even such a thing). I had already put a bad rap on myself just for revealing the fact that Jacob Morgan was my brother, and now _this_. Any _more_ lousy mistakes, and I was going to be the sole laughing stock in all of Hogwarts history.

“What choice do we have?” Rowan shrugged. “She’s the only person who could help us, and you need your cauldron fixed before you return here tonight to redo your Cure for Boils Potion…and before our next Potions Class on Wednesday.”

I sighed. If getting reprimanded by our Prefect wasn’t going to be the worst thing of the day—or even the _year_ —I didn’t know what else. 


	7. Snared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Merula Snyde's insidious yet successful plan to sabotage Jane's potion, Jane ends up being punished for it. What better way to gain back the twenty House Points than to run a seemingly harmless errand for Professor Snape? Unfortunately, Jane discovers too late that her errand for him is, in fact, the complete opposite of harmless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

“I’ve made a complete fool of myself!” I growled in frustration as we left the Dungeons. “I should _never_ have taken my eyes off her! If I’d paid more attention to her, I could’ve stopped her, then none of that would’ve happened. I should give _her_ a pair of buckteeth to go with her chubby cheeks and her vomit-stained hair! If only I knew the spell…”

“ _Densaugeo_ ,” said Rowan.

“What?” I asked, puzzled.

“ _Densaugeo_ ; that’s what the spell is called,” Rowan clarified. “I read it in a book on hexes and jinxes at home. Unfortunately, I don’t know the spell, but even if I did, I wouldn’t have been allowed to use it, especially without a wand. Maybe we can find it in a book in the Library, and we can learn it together.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great. She deserves it after what she did. I swear Merula is going to do everything she can to try and get me expelled.” Suddenly remembering what Rowan said in my ear during Merula’s confrontation, I said, “I remember you saying you read something about Merula’s parents; what happened to them?”

“Oh, yeah!” Rowan exclaimed. “I read in the _Daily Prophet_ something about the Snyde Family being sent to Azkaban just before the school year started. It was rumored they were aiding You-Know-Who during the Wizarding War. It was also said they tortured and killed several Muggles during that time, just for their own pleasure.”

“Seriously?” I said in amazement. I then nodded in understanding. “That explains why she’s so obsessed with being ‘the best.’ She’s trying to look all big, mean, and scary, and make everyone fear her so she’s not viewed as a loser.”

“Exactly,” Rowan nodded. Then she sniggered, “Then again, if we _did_ give her some buckteeth, she won’t look so ‘big, mean, and scary’ anymore.”

“Right!” I giggled at the image. Then I instantly paused. “But what if she’s just like her parents? If that’s the case, maybe giving her buckteeth isn’t such a good idea. Who knows what she’d do to us then.”

Rowan nodded nervously. “Yeah. Come to think of it, you’re probably right.”

Suddenly, as we turned around a corner, I was startled by a small blond boy that was coming around the same corner at the same time.

“I’m so sorry!” the boy cried as he frantically bent over and started picking up his books, which had fallen out of his book bag when we had collided into each other.

“It’s okay,” I said as I reached for his Herbology book and handed it to him. “We didn’t see you coming round the corner.”

When the boy finally looked up at us, he stepped back in shock. “Oh, you’re Jane Morgan, aren’t you? Good! I’d been meaning to speak with you!”

“You know me?” I asked in bewilderment; but then I instantly had to bite my lip. _Duh, Jane! **Everyone** knows who you are by now! _

“Of course!” the boy said. “I’m in the same year as you, as well as in the same house. You must remember me? Ben Copper?”

“Oh, yes, I remember you!” I nodded, recognizing the name as well as his face.

“Me too!” Rowan said. “You’re the boy that fainted into your soup bowl when Nearly Headless Nick floated by to congratulate you on being Sorted into Gryffindor.” I had remembered that as well. Luckily Charlie was brave enough to lift Ben’s head out of his Tomato Soup and lay him on the table instead so he didn’t drown in his soup.

“Uh…yeah…” Ben laughed awkwardly at the memory while his face went beetroot red at the same time. Of course, the only thing he would’ve remembered about the incident was waking up on the side of the table with Tomato Soup in his hair. Changing the subject, he cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, I just wanted to say ‘thank you’ for standing up to Merula Snyde just before Potions Class. I was watching from the end of the corridor, if you’re wondering how I knew about that. I also saw what she did to your potion. I would’ve stopped her, but I was honestly too scared to approach her. I’d fix your cauldron for you, but I don’t have any glue.” He suddenly paused, catching himself saying the wrong thing. “Uh, I mean, I don’t know any repairing spells.”

 _That’s right, he’s Muggle-Born_ , I thought to myself, smiling at Ben’s mistake of words.

“That’s okay, Ben,” I assured him. “Snape probably wouldn’t have let you leave your work station anyway, unless you were gathering more potion ingredients.”

“I really don’t like Merula,” Ben said honestly. “I’ve been following her so she can’t sneak up on me, and if she sees me, I’ll at least have a chance to run away. She tormented me during most of the journey here on the Hogwarts Express. She kept threatening me and calling me a Mudblood.”

“Seriously?” I gasped in shock. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, Ben.”

“I know,” he said dismally. “Merula is obsessed with being the best witch in our year, and she thinks she has to impose her will on us to prove it.”

I nodded. “Yeah, we know. We were just talking about that before we ran into you.”

“I’m just glad someone was brave enough to stand up to her,” Ben said honestly. “ _I’m_ certainly not. It’s a joke that I got put in Gryffindor.”

“Everyone is afraid of something, Ben,” I assured him, “even Gryffindors.”

Ben sighed. “Unfortunately I’m afraid of _everything_. I come from a Muggle family, so all of this is new and scary to me.”

“I know how you feel,” I nodded understandingly. “I come from a wizard family, and this is hard for me too, and not just because of my brother. I’ll try to help you however I can, Ben. Just ask.”

Ben smiled. “Really? Thanks, Jane! I’ll see you around.” He then paused and asked, “Uh, do you guys know where the Greenhouses are?” After we gave him directions, he said ‘thanks’ again and ran off down the corridor.

“What a strange boy,” Rowan pointed out as we ascended the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. “He says he’s afraid of everything, and yet the Sorting Hat placed him in Gryffindor. Bit ironic, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “maybe he’s destined to overcome his cowardice in the near future. You can’t expect him to stay a coward for the rest of his life; he’s got to eventually grow out of it, right?”

“I suppose so,” Rowan said doubtfully as we approached the Fat Lady. We gave the password, and the Fat Lady allowed us access into the Common Room, where we dumped our book bags on the floor and got started on our Charms homework, as we had a bit of time to kill before Herbology with Professor Sprout; we must’ve been in the class right after Ben’s class. I just hoped that between now and then, our Prefect wasn’t going to come in and harass me about my loss of House Points. I wasn’t sure how fast word travelled around the school, and I dreaded to think about what she would do if she did find out.

***

Luckily, the Prefect didn’t show up before Herbology, not even after. However, I knew that somehow the Potions incident wasn’t going to be over; a crisis this big was never going to go unnoticed, or even unheard, for that matter. It was common in Muggle schools for gossip—especially over something dramatic—to spread like wildfire, and I figured that gossip spreading throughout Hogwarts wasn’t going to be any different. Apparently, it didn’t matter what world you lived in, Muggle World or Wizarding World; news of any fault you ever made would spread on an endless scale from one corner of the world to the other (figuratively, as the world has no corners because it is round), and it would eventually come back to haunt you when you least expected it. It always did.

And, of course, the exact moment when Professor McGonagall said at the end of Transfiguration Class later that day, “Miss Morgan? Will you come see me, please?” I knew I was going to be haunted for life. I guessed they didn’t call me ‘cursed’ for nothing.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Rowan assured me as she gathered up her things and followed the rest of the class out of the classroom.

“Yes, Professor McGonagall?” I asked as I hesitantly approached her desk.

Without making eye contact with me and, instead, straightening out a stack of papers that she was preparing to grade, she said in a strict voice, “I trust by now that you are familiar with one of the Gryffindor Prefects, Miss Angelica Cole?”

I nodded. “Yes, Professor.”

“Miss Cole would like to see you in the Gryffindor Common Room as soon as you’re able and discuss with you about the events of earlier today in Potions Class,” McGonagall continued.

I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment at her words. _Bollocks,_ I thought, _she knows. Then again, of **course** she knows, being the Head of Gryffindor House. She must know every action of every Gryffindor student in the castle._ “Uh…okay,” I said out loud. “I’ll head there straight away.”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “That would be the wisest course of action. Miss Cole is currently waiting for you there. Off you go.”

As I left the classroom, I felt McGonagall’s eyes on my back, but I didn’t bother looking back at her, too afraid to make eye contact. I supposed it was fortunate that she decided not to make eye contact with me in the beginning; who knew whether she was one of those people that could invade your mind if you locked eyes with one another. What did they call them—legitimates, or something?

“She knows,” I said dismally to Rowan in the hallway, who had kept her promise to wait for me outside the classroom door.

“What?” Rowan asked, puzzled, “about what happened in Potions?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She said our Prefect is currently waiting for me in the Common Room to talk about it. I had a feeling this was going to happen before the end of the day.”

Rowan shrugged. “Well…better the Prefect lecture you than McGonagall.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” I agreed. It was also fortunate that she was busy grading papers instead of dealing with an apparent troublemaker like me. I somehow doubted she’d let me off the hook because it was my first day, but maybe the Prefect would be more understanding. _We’ll see_. “Come on, we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

***

“Jane Morgan?” the Prefect known as Angelica Cole approached me seconds after Rowan and I walked through the portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower.

“Yes,” I nodded awkwardly in response. “Um, hi, Angie.”

“Actually, it’s Angelica,” she replied indignantly. “My _friends_ call me Angie.”

I took a step back in surprise. “Okay,” I said, trying and failing to suppress my disgust toward her direct statement. “Sorry, _Angelica_. You wanted to see me?”

Angelica nodded in a way that suggested that she didn’t want to waste time exchanging pleasantries like most people did when they properly met each other, which I honestly found a little off-putting. “Yes. As you know, I’m your Prefect, and it’s a Prefect’s job to keep order in the house and help first-years like you with their problems. Considering what your brother did to Gryffindor’s reputation, I should have kept a closer eye on you. We all make mistakes, Jane, but we don’t make mistakes that cost Gryffindor _twenty_ House Points. Because of this, Gryffindor is now at _fourth_ place, you’re aware?” 

I sighed. “Yes, I’m aware. Look, I’m sorry for what happened, but if you could just hear me out, I can tell you what really happened. It wasn’t even my fault.”

Angelica shook her head. “Fine, just tell me the story, and I’ll do my best to understand.”

I immediately began explaining about what happened between Merula and I before and during Potions Class. I explained about her threatening Rowan, who hadn’t done anything wrong, and how she seemed to feel threatened toward me just because I was the ‘better witch’ since I cast the perfect _Lumos_ in Charms Class. I then explained about my belief that Merula had sabotaged my potion during Potions Class, again because she felt threatened by me and felt the need to get back at me for stealing her thunder in Charms.

“I know my brother broke school rules and damaged Gryffindor’s reputation,” I said to end my story, “but I want to be a credit to our house, I swear.”

“I understand that, Jane,” Angelica said in a tone that suggested that she was trying but failing to be sympathetic toward my situation, “but if I’m completely honest, you haven’t exactly proven that about yourself; if anything, you’ve proven to be the exact opposite. I also understand that it is only your first day, so you probably didn’t know any better; but if you start proving you are truly a credit to Gryffindor House, I would be willing to look the other way. In any case, Professor Snape already sent you a letter directly to our Common Room.” She then held up a messily folded piece of paper that had my name written in messy script, making me sense that Snape must’ve written this in a rush.

“Wouldn’t it have made more sense if he’d sent it to me in person?” I frowned, puzzled, as I took the paper from her.

“I don’t disagree,” Angelica shook her head in a ‘ _it doesn’t matter_ ’ manner, “but it could be that he didn’t want to because he was too busy teaching classes, or he simply despises you. He feels that way about everyone, so I wouldn’t take it personally. Anyway, you should open and read that letter immediately. Even though the chances are low, it could be that he is offering to give us back the twenty House Points you lost; in which case, you should follow his instructions sooner than later.”

“Okay,” I nodded as I unfolded the letter and read the script out loud. “‘ _Morgan, I have discovered evidence that your potion may have indeed been tampered with. While it does not prove your innocence, it does cast some doubt on my belief that you are hopelessly incompetent._ ’” I paused at this statement, feeling awkward. “‘ _Bring me a jar of Pickled Slugs from the Potions Storeroom, and I will consider restoring your House Points. Snape_.’ There are directions to the Potions Storeroom at the bottom of the letter.” I said after I finished reading.

“Want me to go with you, Jane?” Rowan offered. “It’s the least I can do after you saved me from Merula.”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks, Rowan. You know your way around the castle much better than me.”

Angelica’s chocolate-brown eyes widened in shock, obviously not expecting this turn of events. “Clearly he _is_ offering to give us back the twenty House Points you lost! Hurry to the Potions Storeroom before he changes his mind!”

“Come on, Rowan!” I grabbed her hand, and we raced determinedly out of the Common Room without looking back.

***

“Okay,” I said as we arrived to the small door that led to the Potions Storeroom—at least the one that which the directions in Snape’s note sent us to. “The directions on Snape’s letter say this is the Potions Storeroom.”

Rowan glanced around the area with a nervous look in her eyes. “I always thought it was located in the Tapestry Corridor. I suppose there must be more than one.” I had to agree with her, because I was feeling her nervousness too. This seemed like an area of Hogwarts that was rarely touched by student, and even staff, feet.

“I guess,” I shrugged, not caring where in the castle the Storeroom was located, nor what circumstances we’d be in once we’d arrived; I just wanted to get back those points that Snape had unfairly taken from me earlier that day. “Anyway, we need to find a jar of Pickled Slugs quickly so I can bring them to Snape so I can get those twenty House Points back…or ten at the very least.”

Rowan nodded. “Right, and get your cauldron fixed before you meet him later tonight to redo your potion that Merula sabotaged.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t remind me.” I then glanced at her uncertainly. “You believe me about that, don’t you, Rowan? You were right next to her.”

Rowan shrugged. “Well, I personally didn’t see Merula sneak the Bulbadox Powder into your potion, but if there’s ever a claim that Merula did something horrendous such as that, I’d believe it all. She truly is a horrendous little witch.”

I nodded in agreement. “Right. Come on, it looks like the Storeroom is already unlocked.” I frowned. Seeing as Snape was quite the perfectionist when it came to potions, you’d think he would’ve been more protective of his ingredients, preventing anyone from attempting to get their hands on them…or worse, _sabotage_ them.

Once we entered the room, we were greeted with nothing but complete darkness.

“I can’t see a thing,” I complained as I took out my wand to cast the Wand-Lighting Charm. Before I could cast it, the loud _thunk_ of the door slamming made me pause. “Hey, why’d you close the door, Row?” I asked, turning to her, or at least toward where I believed was in her general direction, seeing as it was so dark.

“I didn’t,” she said to my right in a confused tone. “It closed right after I entered. It must’ve been the wind, or something.”

I somehow doubted that the wind was responsible for the door slamming, seeing as this was a secluded part of the castle that seemed to scarcely get any fresh air or frequent visitors; in fact, people seemed to avoid this area entirely. I dreaded to think of the alternative explanation for this sudden turn of events.

“It’s not locked, is it?” I said, trying not to sound too concerned.

I heard the jiggling of the door behind us as Rowan checked it. She jiggled it several times, but the door didn’t seem to budge. “Uh, yeah, it is, actually,” she said, exactly what I feared she would say. “I don’t think there’s a way to open it from the inside.”

I shook my head, bringing my focus back to the task at hand. “We’ll figure it out once we find that jar of Pickled Slugs.” I cast the Wand-Lighting Charm exactly as I was taught in Charms Class, and the tip of my wand lit up in a bright white light, illuminating a large mound of green…'things’ that seemed to writhe on the floor and walls.

“Ugh…” I said in shock and curiosity, “what is that?”

“It looks like a mound of snakes,” Rowan breathed behind me.

“Zero points to the bookworm; how disappointing!” said an all-too-familiar voice from the opposite side of the now locked Storeroom door. “The _proper_ name for it is a deadly plant called Devil’s Snare. Some fourth-year Slytherins showed it to me when I first arrived. It’s sensitive to light. If you’re really better at the Wand-Lighting Charm than me, escaping should be no problem.”

“ _Merula!_ ” I exclaimed angrily. “You little snitch! _You_ locked us in here?”

“Along with sending you a _fake_ letter from Snape,” she sniggered. “I _told_ you things would only get worse for you, Morgan. Something has to stop you from ruining Hogwarts. It may as well be Devil’s Snare. Dumb move of you to bring your friend along; now you both get to suffer _together_. Good luck getting out alive, losers!”

“Merula, I will flippin’ _kill_ you!” Rowan screamed, pounding fruitlessly on the door. “Get us out of here right now!”

“Row, it’s no use!” I said, shaking my head. “She’s already gone!”

Rowan groaned. “We can’t just sit here quietly. Someone has to— _Jane, your arm!_ ” 

Before I had a chance to react, a large tendril of Devil’s Snare wrapped itself around my wrist that was holding my lit wand and pulled me back into the mound. My back slammed into the vines, and I felt a piercing pain stab through a few spots on my back from the sharp thorns and ripping the soft fabric of my uniform. More vines wrapped around my waist, my other wrist, and ankles, pinning me to the mound, piercing my exposed skin and drawing blood.

“Rowan!” I yelled painfully. “Help me! Use _Lumos_!”

“Right! _Lumos_!” Rowan’s wand tip lit with a bright white light, and I could see the tendrils of the Devil’s Snare, some wrapping tightly around me and others attempting to pull me apart. Careful not to let the Devil’s Snare take her too, Rowan kept the tendrils back with her lit wand tip, and they recoiled back in seeming fear or pain, like the light was an actual fire that it didn’t want to be burned by. Once she felt safer to approach it, she held her wand to the vines that held me in place—especially the ones that wrapped around my neck and chest—and the vines retreated back into themselves, releasing me enough from their clutches where I could at least breathe again.

Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to even start celebrating, because once a vine retreated, another took its place and wrapped itself around me much tighter than the previous vine. It was like the Devil’s Snare had a mind of its own, and it was fighting back with double force.

“It’s no use!” Rowan cried hopelessly. “There’s too many of them!” she ran back to the door and continued pounding on its surface in a fruitless attempt to get the attention of anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin. “Someone, please help us! We’re getting killed in here! _Please!_ ”

She suddenly screamed as there was an even stronger pounding on the other side of the door that could only have been made from the hands of a giant. A few more heavy pounds, and the door swung open, revealing the large man that escorted us to the castle by boat—the Gamekeeper. “Gulpin’ gargoyles, Gryffindor!” he cried, alarmed. “Get away from that Devil’s Snare. Yer scarin’ it!”

I frowned incredulously. “ _I’m_ scaring it?!”

The giant man reached out to me with a kind expression on his heavily bearded face. “Don’ be afraid. I’m gonna get yeh out o’ ‘ere.” With ease, he pulled me out of the hold of the Devil’s Snare and carried me out into the bright hallway.

Once he set me down, I suddenly realized that I didn’t have my wand. “Wait!” I cried, “my wand is still in there!”

“I got it!” Rowan said as she ran out of the once-again darkened Potions Storeroom—if that even _was_ the Potions Storeroom—and tossed me back my wand.

I sighed in relief, turning to the giant man. “You saved my life! Thank you, Mister…”

“Rubeus Hagrid, at yer service,” he introduced himself in a booming voice. “I’m Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Pleasure teh meet yeh.”

“I’m Jane Morgan,” I replied, then gestured to Rowan. “This is Rowan Khanna.”

“Uh, hi, Mr. Hagrid,” she greeted with a subtle wave.

The Gamekeeper shook his large head. “Please, call me Hagrid an’ forget teh ‘Mr.’ business.” He then turned to me. “Yer the one everybody’s been talkin’ about. Maybe trouble really _does_ run in yer family. How’d yeh end up in there, Jane?”

“A first-year Slytherin named Merula Snyde locked us inside,” I said in disgust at her name—a poisonous name fitting for a girl with a poisonous soul. 

“She did?” Hagrid said, genuinely shocked. “What are yeh goin’ ter do?”

“I’ll tell everyone in our year what she did so they know she can’t be trusted,” I declared confidently, despite the traumatic experience Rowan and I had just seconds ago.

Hagrid raised a bushy eyebrow. “Do yeh have any _proof_?”

I dug in my robe pocket and pulled out the _fake_ letter from Snape, discovering, to my shock, that it was now torn to shreds. “I have a fake letter from Snape, but I can’t prove she’s the one who wrote it.”

“Ah, but who’ll believe yeh if yeh don’ ‘ave any proof?” Hagrid said, considering my statement. “Yeh might want ter reconsider. I’d ‘ead back to yer Common Room an’ take some time teh think, Jane. I don’ want yeh doin’ somethin’ yeh’ll regret.” He then did a thorough scan with his eyes at my ripped uniform. “Yeh might want to do somethin’ abou’ those robes. That Devil’s Snare got yeh good.” He even went as far as to wipe a little bit of blood that had stained the side of my neck. “An’ maybe pay Madam Pomfrey a visit in teh ‘ospital Wing as well.”

“Thanks, Hagrid, but I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. “I’m sure some of my fellow Gryffindors know some healing spells. Hopefully I’ll see you again…uh, under _better_ circumstances.”

“Yeh certainly will, Jane,” Hagrid replied with a smile. “Bu’ fer now, yeh and yer friend had better get back ter yer Common Room.”

***

“Bloody hell! What happened to your robes?” Angelica cried upon seeing the state of my clothes. 

“I got snared by Devil’s Snare,” I confessed as I held a piece of cloth to a bleeding spot on the side of my neck.

“Devil’s Snare?” Angelica exclaimed incredulously. “How? What happened with Professor Snape?” Maybe she thought Snape trapped me with the plant, or something, as the letter suggested, which sounded ludicrous even to me.

I shook my head. “It was a trick. Merula Snyde faked the note and trapped Rowan and I in a room with it. It nearly killed me.”

Angelica sighed and shook her head. “Merula Snyde again. What is it with you and this girl?”

I shrugged. “I think she feels threatened toward me. And I think she hates that I’m the only first-year who’s stood up to her.”

“And I take it you don’t have any proof?” my stern Prefect said with a raised eyebrow. She was so stern I would’ve thought she’d be related to Professor McGonagall by blood. _She might as well be_ , I thought to myself. 

I held up the torn letter. “I have the fake letter—ripped now—from Snape, but I can’t prove Merula was the one who wrote it.”

Angelica shook her head like my statement didn’t prove anything, which, to be honest, it didn’t. “Well, you can’t go around the castle like that. Professor McGonagall will have a fit. People already look at you like you’re mad because of your brother.”

I rolled my eyes. _Tell me something I don’t already know_ , I thought. 

Unexpectedly, Angelica then smiled. “Luckily for you, I know just the spell for the job.” She waved her wand and recited a familiar spell. “ _Reparo_!” After she cast the spell, I instantly felt my robes mending themselves back together. After a minute, I glanced down and noticed my robes were fully repaired, like they’d never been torn to begin with. Angelica smiled proudly. “There! That’s much better. Now you don’t look like you wrestled a hippogriff.”

I smiled back. “Thanks, but I’m mainly just happy to be alive.”

Angelica frowned. “Speaking of which, you’re bleeding in several places. This next spell should give you a bit of comfort.” She waved her wand again and recited another spell, this time one that didn’t sound so familiar to me. “ _Episkey_!” This time, I felt a soothing sensation rush through my body and the pain from my wounds washing away entirely.

I sighed. “Thanks again, Angelica. That does give me much comfort.” I then paused. “There is one more thing… Do you mind repairing my cauldron? I need it fixed before I redo my Cure for Boils Potion for Snape later—the _real_ Snape, anyway.” I dug in my book bag and dumped all of the shards of my broken cauldron on the carpet at her feet.

Angelica nodded. “I shall. I will have it fixed by the time you’re finished cleaning yourself up. I’d suggest you do that before you go anywhere else in the castle.”

I nodded. “That’s what I plan to do.”

“You should also plan to go to class, focus on your studies, and, above all else… _stay out of trouble_ ,” Angelica added sternly, and I took note of the emphasis of the last four words. “Do that, and you’ll be sure to get back those twenty House Points.”

I suddenly found myself speechless because of my increased anger, so I just nodded instead. I then glanced to Rowan and gestured for her to follow me up to our dorm and away from our bossy Prefect. 

“Well, _that_ was horrifying,” Rowan sighed after she threw herself onto her bed next to mine, but not before shrugging off her robe and cardigan. “The Devil’s Snare, I mean.” 

I nodded with a huff, “Yeah. Let’s agree to _never_ go back there again.” 

I felt so angry in that moment. Angry at my brother for leaving me and my family and putting himself into so much trouble to make everyone in the school hate me. Angry at Merula Snyde for making my life a living Hell and trapping Rowan and I in a secluded room with Devil’s Snare that almost killed us, if not for Hagrid saving us while on his rounds. Angry at Angelica Cole for urging me to stay out of trouble and earn Gryffindor more House Points instead of finding my lost, and possibly wounded—or even _dying_ —brother.

“I’m all for that,” Rowan agreed wholeheartedly. She then paused, noticing my discomfort. “What is it, Jane?”

“Can you believe Angie— _Angelica_ , whatever?” I sighed, throwing my mended robe roughly on top of my trunk at the foot of my bed. “My brother is missing, possibly _dead_ , and all she cares about is House Points. In what universe are House Points more important than the life of a missing person? What if _she_ had a missing sibling; would she feel remotely concerned for his or her safety? Instead of hounding me about pointless House Points, she should put herself in my shoes; maybe then, she’d think differently.”

Rowan got up from her bed and sat on mine, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I don’t disagree with you, Jane; that was a jerk move of her to tell you to stay out of trouble. By saying that, she didn’t seem to care one way or another about the safety of your brother, but I’m sure there’s a part of her that does fear for his safety, as well as feel sympathy for you. I get that she doesn’t want Gryffindor to look bad, but if getting into trouble will get your brother back, then I say we do it.”

I glanced at her, feeling incredulous that she’d say such a thing. “Really? You’re not concerned we’ll get caught…or worse, _expelled_?”

Rowan shrugged. “Maybe a little, but it might be worth it if it means saving a life. Sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith.”

This was true. If breaking every school rule was a risk I had to take in order to get my brother back, then I would gladly do it, even if it went against everyone else’s better judgement. 

_Who cares what Angelica says_ , I thought. _I’d give up all of Gryffindor’s House Points to save my brother, because he is, and always will be, worth it_. 


	8. The Tyranny of Merula Snyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a sucky first day of classes, Jane spends several suckier days—which later turn to weeks—dealing with Merula Snyde’s obsession with being the best witch at Hogwarts. What will Jane and her friends do to end the Mistress of Hell’s tyranny over the school?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more. Even if you don't have anything to say about it besides "great story," I'm totally okay with that. It'd at least let me know you're enjoying the story.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I hope you’re alright. It has been a few weeks, and I’ve been away from you long enough to already miss you. I would’ve written sooner, but so many things have been happening that I haven’t had the time, so I’m writing now._

_Hogwarts is amazing! It’s just as amazing as you described. The castle is just beautiful, especially at night. I love sitting by the Black Lake, reading my books and watching the Giant Squid’s tentacles rise over the surface of the water every now and then._

_Also, you’ll be proud to know I’ve been Sorted into Gryffindor House, just like you guys. I was originally thinking of Hufflepuff, but I ultimately chose Gryffindor. I’m honestly not sure why. Maybe deep down I wanted to be viewed as courageous and chivalrous and not anything like Jacob. I understand he made terrible mistakes at Hogwarts before he disappeared, but it seems like now that I’m here, people expect me to be just like him and get into the same trouble he did, which is not true at all. It’s hard to prove to people that I’m not like my brother in any way, and I don’t wish to be like him in the future either. I do, however, want to find out what happened to him and what led him to making these terrible choices, but people don’t seem to trust me to approach them even to ask for help, like they think I’m going to curse them or something. Even my professors seem to think the same way about me, especially Professor Snape, who teaches Potions. I’m assuming he’s new, since you guys never mentioned him. He’s the grouchiest professor in the school, in my opinion, which, I guess, is fitting for the Head of Slytherin House._

_Luckily I’ve got a few amazing friends who support me greatly. Rowan Khanna (also a Gryffindor like me) has been the greatest friend anyone could ask for. She is very intelligent and loves to read just about anything she could get her hands on. Her favourite place in the castle is, of course, the Library, much to Madam Pince’s displeasure. Ben Copper is another very good friend, but very cowardly as well, especially for a Gryffindor; although, I believe he’ll grow out of his cowardice in the near future. I guess his cowardice makes sense, what with him being Muggle-Born; magic seems like an otherworldly thing to him, but he’s quite good at it, especially Charms. I could see him becoming a brilliant Charms professor one day, should Professor Flitwick decide to retire._

_Classes are going great. Charms is also a class I have a knack for, as well as Transfiguration. Flying is also quite fun, at least from observation, since we haven’t had a chance to properly fly yet. I hope we get to properly fly soon, as I may be thinking of joining our Quidditch Team in later years. Potions is another class I like, but I would’ve liked it a whole lot more if Professor Snape weren’t teaching it. He’s so intimidating, but I’m not going to let this distract me from reaching my goal of succeeding in my first year and future years as well. History of Magic is interesting, at least when Rowan is teaching the subject instead of Professor Binns. If I had my way, I’d just let Rowan teach from now on, since she at least keeps the class alive (oops, sorry, Professor Binns). At least Defense Against the Dark Arts isn’t a snooze-fest like History of Magic. The class would’ve been more interesting, had the professor actually had the nerve to teach. The professor is scared of literally everything, including her own shadow. I don’t know how she agreed to take the position (they obviously don’t call it “Defense Against the Dark Arts” for nothing), but, then again, they say the position is cursed, and those who teach it don’t typically stay for longer than a year, if even that. Who knows, maybe we’ll get a decent DADA professor next year._

_Obviously, you can’t attend school without dealing with some kind of bully. One—if not the—biggest bully in my year is a Slytherin girl named Merula Snyde. You guys have probably read in the Daily Prophet about her parents being sent to Azkaban just before the school year started. Rowan told me about them, and we are under the disturbing impression that Merula could be just like them. Not that she’s murdered anybody (yet), but she does like to terrorize anyone and everyone who crosses her path. She seems to have made me her primary target, teasing me and claiming she’s a better witch than me. She sabotaged my potion on my first day, and I ended up being punished because of her. She even faked a note and sent Rowan and I to a storeroom filled with Devil’s Snare that almost killed me. I honestly don’t know how I am going to survive with her tyranny, and my friends and I have thought of everything we could think of. Going to a professor doesn’t seem to work, nor the Prefects. One of the Gryffindor Prefects in particular, Angelica Cole, is the worst, telling me to stay out of trouble and whatnot; but how can I “stay out of trouble” with Merula always causing it and then blaming me for it? I figure that the only way to end her tyranny is to join the Dueling Club, which is also something I originally planned to do as an activity outside of class. Of course, I’d have to learn some dueling spells first._

_I know I’ve written much already, but I want to say that not a day goes by do I miss Jacob. Despite all the terrible choices he’s made to get himself expelled, I still miss him and wish he was here at Hogwarts to help me get through this year. If it weren’t for the Cursed Vaults, he’d still be around, supporting me and giving me helpful advice to deal with Snape’s grouchiness and Merula’s obvious goal to make my life, as well as the lives of many others in my year, at Hogwarts a living Hell. I could use his support now more than ever._

_I love you loads and can’t wait to come home for the Christmas holidays._

_Your loving daughter,_

_Jane_

There is a law known to Muggles, called Murphy’s Law, which states, ‘if something can go wrong, it will,’ and usually it was said to go wrong at the worst possible time. My first day here at Hogwarts turned out to be exactly like that. As I was delivering my letter to one of the school owls in the Owlery, I recalled everything that happened that went wrong that day: my nightmare of hearing Jacob’s voice calling out to me from the dark corridors of Hogwarts that were filling with what I could only describe as ‘cursed ice;’ having the misfortune of meeting the ruthless and tyrannical Merula Snyde, who had an obsession to make my life even more miserable than it already was at the time; my Cure for Boils Potion being sabotaged by Merula and being forced to redo it later in the evening under Professor Snape’s watchful eyes; and being lured to a storeroom in a secluded part of the castle, also by Merula, that contained Devil’s Snare that nearly tore me apart. I couldn’t imagine a worse first day than the one I had experienced. _I guess I’m that cursed_ , I thought dismally to myself. 

“Whatever goes on in that twisted mind of hers, I’ll never know,” I said to no one in particular as I left the Owlery.

***

“Can you believe it, Jane?” Rowan said excitedly as we arrived on the Training Grounds for our next Flying Class on Tuesday the following week. “We’re finally gonna be learning to fly rather than just observing how to fly.”

I frowned. “I thought Madam Hooch said we’d be learning to summon a broom, not fly it.”

“Really?” Rowan frowned. “Oh, I must’ve missed that part. Oh well, I’m still excited anyways. I always preferred the hands-down experience over just plainly observing.”

“Me too,” I agreed.

“I don’t,” Ben Copper said with apparent dread in his voice as he approached us. “I’d much prefer observing over anything else any day. That way, I wouldn’t have to get hurt.”

“Ben!” I exclaimed upon seeing him. “How are you? I haven’t seen you much this week except in class.”

“That’s because I’ve been hiding all week,” he admitted. “I’ve been looking for all sorts of places to hide when things get too terrifying. All this stuff to do with magic and flying—it’s like I’m living in a whole other world, but it’s a world that shouldn’t exist except in one’s imagination. How do you live with it all?”

I shrugged. “It’s complicated to explain, Ben, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it very quickly. I know that doesn’t sound like very helpful advice, but that seems to be what people do. Just give yourself more time, Ben, and everything will be okay. We’ve only been here a few weeks.”

“True,” he sighed, “but these weeks have been Hell for me personally. Being pulled into a world I never knew existed… Living in said world without my parents around to give me advice because they know nothing about anything to do with magic… Making a total fool of myself in front of the whole school during the Sorting Ceremony… Being called a Mudblood…”

“Well, of _course_!” said an all-too-familiar voice—the Mistress of Hell herself, Merula Snyde. “That’s what we call your kind in the Wizarding World. If you know nothing of our customs, then clearly you don’t belong here.”

“Shut your mouth, Merula!” Rowan said, annoyed. “No one asked for your opinion!”

“And _I_ didn’t ask to be yelled at by a four-eyed bookworm,” Merula snapped back. “You seriously need to learn some manners. Clearly that Devil’s Snare didn’t discipline you well enough.” She then sniggered. “Oh, wait…that was _Morgan_!”

I had had enough of this little snake. First, she picked on me, and now she was starting to pick on my friends. Someone had to stop her from harassing the school, and I didn’t mind being one to volunteer.

I stood forward. “You know what? I sincerely hope you get bashed in the nose at the end of this class, Merula. You’d certainly deserve it after you almost killed me.”

Merula snorted. “ _I_ almost killed you? You mean the _Devil’s Snare_ almost killed you. Besides, you have no proof that it was me who was responsible; and even if you did have proof, who would believe you? Everyone thinks you’re mad because of your freak brother. Sooner or later, even the Headmaster will find out you’re as big of a freak as your brother is, and he’ll kick you out of Hogwarts before you know it. I’m betting you’ll be out of here before even the first term ends.”

I clenched my hands into fists, wanting so badly to punch her with one of them, but I fought myself to hold them back. Instead, I said under my breath, “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think about me or my brother. Nothing is going to stop me from finding him, and I’m not going to let you get in my way of accomplishing that goal.”

Merula looked like she was about to say something snooty back when Madam Hooch called in the background, “Class is about to begin, students! Everyone please find a broom and gather around the Broom Care Table.”

After being interrupted, Merula must’ve forgotten what she was going to say ( _good riddance_ , I thought with a slight smirk), so instead, she muttered, “We’ll see about that,” and walked away without another word. _Thank you, Madam Hooch_ , I thought in reply. 

“I hate her,” Rowan declared behind me. “I’d like to see _more_ than her nose get bashed at the end of this class.”

“You got into a fight with Devil’s Snare?” Ben said, evidently shocked. “I hadn’t heard about that. That must’ve been terrifying.”

I nodded. “It was. I’ll tell you about it while we’re polishing our brooms.”

Ben suddenly shook his head. “Actually, you don’t have to. Every time I hear about something terrifying, that terrifying thing ends up appearing in my dreams at night. I’ve been having nightmares lately about falling off of a broom.”

“Well, maybe if I tutored you in Flying, you wouldn’t have to dream about falling off a broom again,” I suggested as we gathered around a pile of brooms and chose one to our liking to polish for class. A few days previously, I had told Ben that I was thinking of learning some Flying tricks in preparation for Quidditch Tryouts in later years, and I had offered to teach him some Flying tricks as well to help him overcome his fear of flying, but he always declined. 

“I know we’ve had this conversation before,” he said, declining yet again. “I’m still thinking about it.” He then ran off to the opposite side of the table, clearly not interested in discussing the topic further, at least today. 

“You really think you’ll get Ben to have the balls to fly on a broom, as cowardly as he is?” Rowan asked a little doubtfully.

“He has to overcome his fears of Hogwarts at some point,” I said honestly, “especially flying. Why not start now? Otherwise, he’ll stay a coward, and who knows where he’d be after graduation. I doubt he’ll be able to survive on his own without hiding in a cupboard for the rest of his life. I’m going to help him, whatever it takes.” _That, and stop Merula’s tyranny once and for all…somehow_ , I thought to myself.

If I had to be honest, that day’s class was slightly less boring than any of our past Flying classes, because this time, at least we had the opportunity to do something with a broom. We learned to polish them, which wasn’t remotely exciting in the slightest, and then shortly after, we learned to summon our brooms, simply by sticking our hand over the broomstick and saying firmly, “Up!” For some—myself being, surprisingly, one of the lucky few—their brooms lifted into their hands right away, but for others, it was a bit more challenging. For Rowan, she was able to summon her broom after two attempts, and Penny Haywood summoned hers in four attempts. However, much to our amusement, Merula was struggling the most. After about the sixth attempt, her broom swung up and knocked her clean in the nose, exactly how I had hoped.

“Serves you right, Merula,” Rowan sniggered. “Despite being inanimate objects, even brooms can recognize homicidal maniacs such as yourself.”

“Shut up, Four-Eyes!” Merula shouted at her before being bashed in the nose again, this time much harder where blood spewed in all directions.

“Looks like it’s the Hospital Wing for you, Miss Snyde,” Madam Hooch said from off to the side, noticing Merula’s heavily bleeding nose. “Off you go. You too, Mr. Zenger.”

Merula looked like she wanted to jinx me right there (as if I had anything to do with this, which I _didn’t_ ), but luckily Madam Hooch pulled her away from us and pushed her back toward the castle.

“Looks like your wish came true, Jane,” Rowan smiled at me. “How much do you want to bet her potion won’t be near as good as yours tomorrow?”

“Let’s not get our hopes up,” I said a little nervously. “Who knows what she’ll sabotage next.”

***

Unfortunately, Rowan’s prediction that Merula’s Wiggenweld Potion wasn’t going to be near as good as mine was proven false. Despite getting every step completed correctly—this time without allowing Merula or anybody else to sneak Bulbadox Powder into my potion again—Professor Snape still believed Merula’s potion to be better, or rather ‘ _flawless_ ,’ as he put it. Of course, Merula bragged that Snape “recognizes perfection when he sees it,” as well as adding that I was nothing but an embarrassment to Gryffindor House as well as Hogwarts. _So typical of her_ , I thought dismally in my head. I guessed this was her way of proving that nothing could bring her down and stop her from ruling the school, but I was planning to change that.

By the time the weekend came, I was having a particularly hard time, dealing with Merula’s tyranny on almost an hourly basis and over half the school refusing to trust me because of my brother’s bad reputation, so Rowan decided to try to cheer me up with a leisurely game of Gobstones (which was a game similar to the Muggle game of Marbles, the only difference being that Muggle losers didn’t get spewed in the face like in the Wizard version) in the Courtyard. Jacob and I had often played Gobstones when we were younger, long before his obsession with the Cursed Vaults. If only the vaults hadn’t torn us apart, then he’d still be here. He always knew what to say to make me happy.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Rowan,” I said as we played. “I could use a break from all the rubbish I’ve been dealing with, not just with Merula and Snape. Because of my brother, no one seems to want to trust me, and sometimes I think you’re the only one who does.”

“That’s not true,” Rowan shook her head. “Ben trusts you, and Penny Haywood, and Professor Flitwick. He thinks you have a real knack for Charms. I heard that one day he might want to hire you as a tutor.”

“Really?” I asked a little doubtfully. “I never heard that.”

“It’s true,” Rowan assured. “You should ask him about it next class. I think you’d make a fine tutor.”

“If only I could help Ben overcome his fear of flying, that’d be an excellent start,” I admitted. “I know there’s bravery in him somewhere; why else would the Sorting Hat have placed him in Gryffindor?”

“No offense, Jane,” Rowan shook her head, “but you’re putting your faith in the wrong person. I don’t think there’s anyone more cowardly than Ben Copper.”

“Give him a chance, Row,” I said, feeling great offense. “If you don’t, he’ll never learn to overcome anything. You just need to be patient with him. He is Muggle-Born, after all.”

Rowan sighed. “Fine, fine. Are you gonna take your turn, or not?”

I reluctantly took my turn, but at the same time I couldn’t help feeling a bit frustrated at everyone for the way they were treating Ben. Every day, people talked about how cowardly he was, but I didn’t think they ever thought about what Ben was truly like on the inside. On the outside, yes, everyone saw a coward; and admittedly, so did I. But on the inside, I believed there was the soul of a true lion—a brave and loyal leader that could rise above anything and face his enemies without fear. Ben may not have been able to sense that in him, but I was going to help him sense that, no matter what that took. 

“Good game, Jane,” Rowan praised after I had won. “Some people think Gobstones isn’t cool, but I’ve always considered it to be the thinking witch’s Quidditch. Thanks for playing. I’ve never been especially good at making friends.”

“ _We_ became friends pretty quickly,” I said honestly. “You helped me a great deal in Diagon Alley. I wouldn’t have known my way around if it weren’t for you.”

Rowan smiled. “It was no problem. I was glad to help; in fact, I would’ve done it anyway. You seemed to be struggling a bit at the time.”

“I was,” I nodded in agreement, “but thanks to you, I found everything I needed. You’re a really good friend, Row.”

She smiled again. “It was nothing.”

“Well, well, what do we have here?” said an all-too-familiar voice behind me. “A pair of losers spending the day in their own little world of Loserville. Is there anything less pathetic?” 

“Why don’t you just leave us alone?” I sighed, rolling my eyes as I stood up from the floor. At this point, I had had it with her snippy attitude and useless bullying. It had to stop.

“Is it not obvious?” Merula said in an incredulous tone. “Because you’re a danger to Hogwarts just like your freak brother, and none of us will be safe until you’re gone.” 

“What are you talking about, Merula?” Rowan said angrily, also standing up.

“I’ve been doing a little research on Morgan’s brother,” Merula said matter-of-factly. “Turns out he didn’t just get expelled for endangering the entire school in search of some imaginary vaults…” She then looked at me with a crude smile. “He immediately went missing, and the next time he was seen he was working for _Voldemort_.”

“You can’t say that!” Rowan cried, astounded. “You have to call him ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’ or ‘You-Know-Who!’”

“I’ll say what I want,” Merula said, rolling her eyes carelessly.

That was the final straw. She’d gone _too far_ , saying what she said about my brother. “You’re _lying_ about my brother having _anything_ to do with You-Know-Who!” I yelled in her face. That was a lie; it just _had_ to be. Jacob would never join _him_ , even if his life depended on it.

“No wonder the professors were talking about you before the Feast,” Merula sniggered. “They’re wondering if _you_ work for the Dark Lord too.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I roared incredulously. “I would _never_ work for a cold-blooded murderer like him!” I then shot her an intense glare. “Besides, I don’t know why you’d ever bring up You-Know-Who given _your_ family’s history.”

In a fraction of a second, I saw Merula’s body shudder at my words. “Y-You don’t know anything about me…” she stammered.

“Thanks to Rowan’s research, I know that your parents are locked up in Azkaban for being loyal to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the Wizarding War,” I explained. “They tortured and killed millions of witches, wizards, and Muggles alike, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you grew up to be just like them. Who knows, maybe you already _are_ like them in every way.”

Just then, I felt a sudden pang of sadness for her. Because her parents were stuck in prison, Merula had no one to care for her, no one to look up to, which explained the way she’d been acting since the school year started. “I finally understand why you’re always so angry,” I said somewhat apologetically. “You got no one to look up to for guidance. The people you love are locked away, never to be seen again. You want to be strong, to forget that they’re gone, but nobody trusts you. You just want someone who can trust you, but the only way to get someone’s attention is to lash out. You want to be ‘the best,’ because you got no friends.”

Merula suddenly shook her head, having enough. “Why don’t you just drop out of Hogwarts? Save Gryffindor and your little friend here the embarrassment of being associated with you!”

“You’re just afraid that I’ll be better than you!” I snapped back. Of _course_ she was afraid of competition, wanting to get to the Cursed Vaults before me so that she could get the attention and praise she deserved after the incarceration of her Death Eater parents. 

“ _Afraid_?” she yelled just as angrily. “I’ll duel you right _now_!” She then took out her wand.

I shook my head, not interested in the slightest in having a rerun of our first meeting. “You aren’t worth my time, Merula. Keep this nonsense to yourself. Come on, Rowan.” We started walking back toward the castle after we packed up our Gobstones game.

As we were walking, Merula did something Rowan and I weren’t expecting. She screamed, “DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” and cast a spell I didn’t recognize. “ _Flipendo_!”

Just as suddenly, my legs swung out from under me involuntarily, like someone purposefully kicked my legs from behind, and I fell hard on my backside.

In pain, I looked up at Merula as she said, “Learn a few more spells, Morgan. Maybe next time you’ll put up a fight.” She then walked away, laughing hysterically.

“Are you alright?” Rowan asked as she helped me up.

“Yeah,” I groaned, rubbing my backside. “Merula is never going to leave us alone, not unless we learn more spells and find someone who can teach us how to duel. That’s the only way we’ll have a chance at stopping her tyranny once and for all. We just need to figure out who.” 


	9. Mysterious Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before Halloween, Jane has a disturbing dream about her brother (which will haunt her in later years). After the Halloween Feast, she and Rowan go to the Artifact Room to find a dueling book that they believe will help them end Merula’s bullying, but shortly after they find it, Jane is overcome with visions that may hint at Hogwarts’s doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE HM VIDEO GAME:
> 
> I had the idea of the ‘voice’ being Rakepick, since I have a theory that this was when she first arrived at Hogwarts, if she hadn’t first arrived in Year 2 when Ben mysteriously disappeared at the beginning. I wrote a comment about this in an earlier chapter, which you can find in the Comments Section. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more.

The night before Halloween, I had another dream; but this time, it was one of the most disturbing to date.

I was running through the dark, icy corridors of Hogwarts again, which was no different than my previous dreams. As I passed certain rooms in the castle, I saw several large blocks of ice, some of them containing people frozen inside, many with horrified expressions on their faces. Knowing I couldn’t do anything for them, mainly because I didn’t know any melting spells, I just continued running, looking for…something…or someone. At the time, I wasn’t sure what or who I was searching for, but one thing was certain: I was desperate to find whatever or whoever it was. For all I knew, this thing or person I was looking for may have been the cause of the blocks of ice mysteriously appearing all over the castle, and I had to stop whoever or whatever was doing this.

As I continued running aimlessly through the castle, I heard a distant male voice call out to me in the darkness, “ _Jane_ …”

“Jacob?” I called back, recognizing that the voice belonged to him.

“ _Jane_ …” Jacob said again, this time a bit more clearly, like he was standing right in front of me, but I couldn’t see anything. For some reason, I didn’t think to use _Lumos_ , even though I was very familiar with the spell by now.

“I hear you, but I can’t see you,” I said, looking around and squinting through the darkness. “Where are you?”

I suddenly gasped as I saw Jacob, dressed as he looked the last time I saw him before he disappeared, on the far side of the corridor. He gestured to me and whispered, “ _I am here. Come to me_ …” He then disappeared into a nearby room.

“Jacob! Wait!” I yelled, chasing after him.

When I entered the room, the room was dark, much darker than the corridor outside. Also, when I entered, I felt a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I had just run into a trap. I turned my head to the corridor behind me, but there was nothing; the corridor had disappeared. Panicking, I glanced in all directions and discovered that I was standing in… _nothing_. Absolutely nothing. There was just an empty void, like the whole world had vanished under my feet.

“Jacob!” I called, my voice echoing through the void. “Where are you? I can’t see.”

I heard a response say, “ _Lumos Maxima_!” and then I saw my brother—or who I _thought_ was my brother—standing in the middle of the dark void under a bright ball of white light, but he was different this time. Under the glowing light, he was wearing a heavy black cloak that covered his whole body, except for his face, which was still visible under the hood of the cloak. 

“Jacob?” I asked him, suddenly getting the sense that there was something very not right about his presence. “What’s going on? Why are you wearing that?”

Then I immediately felt something strange wrapping itself around my waist and pulling me back aggressively into a thorny wall. Gasping in pain, I looked down and saw the familiar vines that had almost killed me on my first day at Hogwarts, slithering over me and holding me tightly against the wall.

“Jacob! Help!” I cried. “This is Devil’s Snare! Use your light to let me loose!” But Jacob didn’t move; he only smiled, but it was a sinister-looking smile, which was one I had never seen on his face before. The expression sent chills up my spine, for now I _knew_ I was in a trap. “Jacob, what are you doing?” I yelled at him, in utter disbelief that he was just standing there. “Help me!”

He then shook his head and said, “Sorry, Pip, I can’t do that. My Lord told me not to.”

Normally when he’d say my nickname, it made me feel joy inside, but this time it made me feel fear, mainly because of how he’d said it. He said my nickname with neither love nor hate, but that was all I really knew how he’d said it. I honestly didn’t know any other words that described his tone, but it terrified me to my core.

But then I frowned at the last bit he said. “Your ‘ _Lord_?’” I asked, puzzled. “What’re you talking about? Jacob, what’s happened to you?”

Surely he wasn’t talking about _him_ …was he?

“I’m with him now,” he shrugged in a no-big-deal manner. “He offered me to join him when I left, so I did.” He then took out something from his cloak pocket—a sinister-looking white mask with snake-like eye slits that looked disturbingly familiar. 

As he placed the mask over his face, I asked, struggling to breathe from the tight hold the Devil’s Snare had on me, “Who’s ‘he?’ Jacob, what have you done?”

He then looked up at me, but he wasn’t Jacob anymore. Standing in front of me was a proper Death Eater. “Lord Voldemort,” he said in my brother’s voice, but it was unnaturally distorted, warped, so unlike my brother’s true voice. This was the voice of a dangerous psychopath…a true killer.

“Jacob!” I cried, in total disbelief at what I was seeing, what I’d seen my brother _become_. “No! How could you?”

Instead of answering, he just continued as if I hadn’t said anything at all. “He asked me to give you a choice. Either join us…or _die_. So…what’s it going to be, Pip?”

It was unusual hearing a _Death Eater_ call me by my brother’s nickname for me, but this was no longer my brother. There was absolutely _no_ trace of him left under that traitorous mask.

“Jacob, no!” I screamed again, tears spilling down my cheeks. “You can’t do this! _I_ won’t do this! Please, come back!”

“So be it!” the Death Eater that was once my brother growled. He then stood forward, raised his wand and cast the worst spell imaginable. “ _Avada Kedavra_!” A bright green light shot out from his wand tip straight toward me.

“NO!” I screamed as the light struck me in the chest, and everything went dark.

***

The darkness was then cleared by bright moonlight shining through the curtains of my four-poster in my dorm room in Gryffindor Tower. In complete shock at what I had seen in my dream, I sat bolt upright, heart racing.

“Jane?” Rowan’s concerned voice asked me as I heard her stir in her bed next to mine. “What’s wrong?”

I then heard another roommate of mine, named Emma, ask with equal concern, “Jane? Why are you screaming?”

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “It was just a nightmare. Go back to bed.”

While my other roommates settled back in their beds, I sensed that Rowan was not doing the same. I could see her silhouette through the thin curtains surrounding my bed. “Row, I’m fine,” I said as calmly as I could sound, despite the feeling of dread still coursing through my veins. “Please go back to bed.”

Rowan stood up from her bed and came over to mine. “But you’re _not_ fine.” She then parted my curtains and sat next to me, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders, glasses absent from her clean face. This was the first time I had seen her without her glasses, and a small part of me thought she looked prettier without them. Not that she didn’t look pretty _with_ her glasses, of course. 

“Jane, it’s okay,” she soothed, laying down next to me, “you can tell me. What happened?”

With a heavy sigh, I told her about my dream. “I saw Jacob…in my dream. It was so horrible. He…” I paused, glancing through the curtains to my other roommates, making sure they were back to sleep before continuing. “He joined You-Know-Who. He became a _Death Eater_. He trapped me in that room with the Devil’s Snare, and he gave me a choice to either join him or die. I refused, and he…” I then sobbed, not being able to hold back my tears any longer. “He _killed_ me. He used the Killing Curse and _killed_ me. Oh, Rowan… What if Merula was right? What if he _had_ joined You-Know-Who? What if he’s coming for _me_ next? My own _brother_ … How could he _do_ such a thing?”

It just seemed utterly impossible. Jacob wouldn’t betray his family like this…he wouldn’t betray _me_ , his own sister. Now that he was gone, I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Rowan said, although she didn’t sound very sure herself. “Maybe he’s just lost. Even if the Death Eaters do come after him, I’m sure he can fend them off just fine.”

Her words did make me feel a bit better. “He did tell me he was a fantastic dueler,” I admitted. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he is just lost.”

 _But where, though?_ I couldn’t help thinking in my head.

***

For the whole rest of the night, Rowan was kind enough to sleep with me to keep me company, and also because “no one should have to be alone when having nightmares,” which I couldn’t have agreed more. The next morning, I thanked her a thousand times, and she admitted that she would’ve done it anyway, because “that’s what friends are for.” Of course, if it was _she_ that had the nightmares instead of me, I would’ve done the same for her in a heartbeat.

During the day of Halloween, we still had our normal classes, but thankfully the ones in the afternoon were cut short in order to prepare for the annual Halloween Feast that night. By the time of the Feast, the Great Hall was decorated beautifully, with floating pumpkins in place of the typical candles, and the tables were set with the most delicious treats in the world, such as Pumpkin Pie, Custard Tarts, and the lot. During the meal, a few students that were gifted in Charms prepared some special entertainment with dancing skeletons performing a synchronized waltz of sorts, which was very amusing to watch. I especially liked seeing Professor Dumbledore enjoying himself at the teachers’ table; I didn’t think the broad smile, nor the sparkles behind his half-moon spectacles, ever left his face once.

“Blimey, I’m _stuffed_ ,” Rowan declared, rubbing her tummy. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat anything for a whole week.” She then thought better. “Actually, that’s not true. I’ll probably be hungry again for a late breakfast tomorrow. Good thing it’s Saturday tomorrow.”

I smiled back. “Yeah. We can stay up late and eat as many sweets as we want.”

“Are you sure, Jane?” she said, suddenly looking concerned again. “They say too much sugar gives you nightmares. Are you sure you want to fill up on sweets tonight after the nightmare you had last night?”

I sighed in exasperation. “Oh, Rowan, that was just a dream. There’s no way that was something that happened or will happen in real life.” I then felt the familiar icy chill creep up my spine in that moment, and I suddenly got the feeling that the dreams I’ve been having of what I had recently dubbed ‘the cursed ice’ encasing Hogwarts _weren’t_ just dreams, since I had had these dreams on more than one occasion. Ignoring the icy feeling, I said, “If there’s one thing I’d like to see in a dream that would later become a reality, it’s seeing the look on Merula’s face when her tyranny is finally over.”

Rowan sniggered. “Yeah. I can already picture that in my mind. She’d be so humiliated.” Changing the subject, she said, “Speaking of which, I’ve talked with our Prefect, Angie. She’s willing to help us stop Merula’s bull—”

“ _Angie_?” I interrupted with a frown. “I thought only her _friends_ called her Angie.” I still felt a little disgusted toward her for the way she treated me when we first met.

Rowan sighed somewhat guiltily. “Yeah…well, I’ve sort of become friends with her recently. She’s not actually all bad; she’s actually quite friendly once you get to know her. Granted, her sense of humor needs some improvement, but she’s quite nice to get along with.”

I sighed, glancing to Angelica sitting with her friends not too far from us. “Yeah, well, she still doesn’t seem to trust me, like everyone else in this school, especially all of Gryffindor.”

“Just give her another chance, Jane,” Rowan insisted, “just like you want us to give Ben Copper a chance to overcome his cowardice. I see he’s cowering under the table again. I honestly don’t know what you see in that boy.”

I glanced over at Ben and saw that he was, indeed, crouched under the table; though I wasn’t sure what was spooking him at that very moment. The Hogwarts Ghosts were, surprisingly, nowhere in sight, and the dancing skeletons’ performance had long since been over.

Giving up on trying to figure out what was bothering Ben, I said with a shrug, “There’s a true lion in him somewhere. He just needs to learn to see that for himself.” If he was cowering because of a few dancing skeletons (that weren’t actually real; it was just a spell), clearly that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Changing the subject back to our Prefect, I asked, “Anyway, you said something about _Angelica_ ; you said she wanted to help us with Merula?” 

Rowan nodded. “Yeah, she said there’s a secret dueling book reserved for Gryffindors to use hidden in the Artifact Room; although, it’s in the same area as the room where we found the Devil’s Snare, but thankfully on the other side of the corridor. Ben Copper says that’s where he goes to hide a lot. Angie said if we find the book and learn some dueling spells from it, she can help us stop Merula’s bullying at least for a little while. She said you can’t really stop a Slytherin’s bullying forever, but it’s a start.”

“Brilliant!” I praised her. “We’ll go to the Artifact Room and find that book after dinner.”

***

I didn’t exactly feel comfortable returning to almost the same place as where we found the Devil’s Snare—especially not after my dream of Death Eater Jacob trapping me in it—but luckily the Artifact Room was on the opposite side of the corridor, exactly where Rowan said it would be. After hearing about Ben Copper coming here to hide, it seemed a bit surprising to me that he would, considering it was very close to where I almost died. Then again, maybe it didn’t matter to him, as long as it was secluded; though it was a bit _too_ secluded in my opinion; that meant people could get away with _anything_ around this part of the castle and not get in trouble for it. 

“They say untold treasures lie within the Artifact Room,” Rowan said as we entered the room.

“Along with untold odors,” I said immediately after a putrid stench ran up my nose, making me cough. Ignoring the foul smell, I asked, “So what did Angelica say the book looked like?”

“Not much,” Rowan shrugged, “except that it was big, red, and it had strange markings on it, like something written in Celtic, or some other ancient language.”

I smirked. “ _Huh_ , no surprise Gryffindor would reserve a _red_ book. Let’s hurry and find it. You search over there, and I’ll look over here.” I gestured to the far wall where there was a large group of cabinets with its doors covered in dust, and I walked over to what was once a bookshelf, only it held very few books, but no red ones. The shelves mostly held strange items, such as a skull wearing a pair of earmuffs, or those ‘headphones’ Muggles used to listen to music. 

“I’ll fight the urge to catalogue every single amazing thing in this room,” Rowan said with a small chuckle. “I’ll probably fail, but at least I’m good at multitasking.” She then paused and asked hesitantly, “Um…while we’re searching, you want to talk about what Merula said about your brother?”

I sighed, knowing this conversation was going to come up eventually, but I decided to share it anyway. “You already know most of the story from the _Daily Prophet_ ,” I explained. “My brother was obsessed with the idea that there were Cursed Vaults containing mysterious treasures hidden at Hogwarts, but no one believed him, not even our mum. He broke all kinds of rules and put people in danger while trying to prove he was right. Some people say he unleashed curses on Hogwarts. Some say he was cursed _himself_. Everyone thought he was _mad_.” I then frowned. “Merula was lying about him being involved with Voldemort, but she was right about him being missing.” Continuing with the story, I said, “After he got expelled, he ran away from home and hasn’t been seen since. There were rumors he came back here, searching for the vaults.” I sighed again, suddenly feeling a large knot appear in my throat. “Sometimes I wonder if he really _was_ mad. Sometimes I wonder if _I_ am too…”

Rowan then paused her searching and put a soothing hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think you’re mad, Jane. I think you’re brilliant, and I’m glad you’re my friend.”

I smiled greatly. “Thanks, Rowan. Merula will keep attacking us until we do something to stop her, which is why it’s so important to find that book.”

Rowan nodded understandingly. “Right.” She then started searching the cabinets again. After a while, she paused and cried, “Ooh! A book on Apparition! I always wanted to do that! They say it’s so much quicker to get to places when Apparating. Although, you have to be careful when doing it, or you could get splinched.”

“Splinched?” I frowned, puzzled at the unusual word.

“It’s when one’s body parts get left behind after Apparition,” Rowan explained. “It happens from time to time. Most people lose a toe or a finger, and other times people can lose much more, like a whole arm or leg. My grandfather got splinched once when he was very young, losing his arm. It was a mess having to reattach the arm…so I was told from my grandmother. Other than that, it’s actually quite helpful and fun… _Apparition_ , I mean.”

I paused, feeling disturbed. “Maybe I don’t want to learn Apparition just yet.” I didn’t fancy the idea of losing a limb, as gruesome as it sounded.

“Oh, no, you learn it in Year Six,” Rowan said, shaking her head. “If you’re not comfortable Apparating, you can always use the Floo Network instead. That’s what I prefer.”

I resumed my searching for the red dueling book that our Prefect wanted us to find that would help us stop Merula’s bullying while Rowan was rambling about the Floo Network. During my search, I heard a chilling female voice whisper my name from…somewhere, but it also sounded like it was coming from everywhere, “ _Janelle_ …”

“What?” I asked, looking around in fear.

“Huh?” Rowan glanced at me, confused. “Did you say something?”

“ _You_ did,” I corrected her, so sure she was messing with me. “You said my name, my _full_ name.” Then again, she normally said my short name ‘Jane’ instead of my full name.

“No I didn’t,” she shook her head, and I noticed that her tone sounded like she was telling the truth.

I continued looking around, trying to find the source of the voice. If it wasn’t Rowan, then who was it? “I heard a voice…” I admitted quietly, like I didn’t want the owner of the voice to know I was on to her. “A woman’s voice.”

“It wasn’t me,” Rowan shrugged, and I believed her this time.

I shook my head, thinking I was being paranoid for no reason. “It…must’ve been my imagination. Never mind.” Suddenly, something red in a large barrel next to the shelf caught my attention. I reached in and grabbed the red thing, and it was the book we were sent to find. I exclaimed, “Hey, I found the book…I _think_.”

“Is it red with Celtic-like symbols on it?” Rowan asked to make sure it was the right one. I glanced at it and confirmed, and after I did, she said, “Good. Then let’s go. I’m anxious to read what’s in there.”

As we were preparing to leave, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a massive headache. I screamed and collapsed against the cabinet of drawers that Rowan was searching through, clutching my head in pain. Behind my closed eyelids, I saw flashes of incomprehensive images. One image showed a tall knight towering over me that was covered in ice and snow. A second image showed a large door that was in the shape of a snowflake. A third image showed an ancient staircase shrouded in icy mist.

But the most disturbing thing of all was the woman’s voice saying with a sinister laugh, “ _The ice is here. The vault will open_ ,” as several images of students and staff being frozen in cursed ice, screaming for help, flashed in my mind. 

Finally, all was quiet, and my head cleared of the images, and I could see Rowan’s pale face looking down at me.

“Jane!” she exclaimed, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I saw things…” I said breathlessly, “in my mind. A walking suit of armor standing in front of an icy door…a staircase shrouded in mist…ice encasing Hogwarts, spreading faster and faster…”

“Ice?” Rowan asked, puzzled.

“And I heard the voice again,” I added with a shudder. “It said, ‘ _The ice is here. The vault will open._ ’”

Rowan paused for a moment. She then said slowly, “Um…okay. I still don’t think you’re mad, but I wonder if your brother saw these same visions.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, my headache finally subsiding. “There’s no way to know for sure. Let’s just get out of here and head back to the Common Room. I’m suddenly not feeling so well.”

Rowan nodded in agreement. “Okay. We can talk about what you saw later. I want to start skimming through this book. There must be a spell in here that’ll put Merula in her place.”

We then left the Artifact Room without another word.

***

Even after we arrived back to Gryffindor Tower, we still hadn’t spoken to each other. I was still speechless about the images I’d seen of all those terrifying things, most of them relating to the cursed ice. After seeing images like them, I was even more sure that these were images of the future and not dreams, like I would normally have at night while asleep. They all seemed so real, like I was actually there…like I _will_ be there; although, I wasn’t sure _when_ I’d be there, and I honestly didn’t want to find out.

One thing that was certain was that this was _not_ how I planned to spend my All Hallows Eve this year. I supposed it seemed appropriate to have scary visions on this night, even though I didn’t ask for them, nor for any other night.

For several hours, I thought about these visions while Rowan quietly read through the red dueling book. It wasn’t until around midnight that Rowan finally spoke up to break the long silence between us. 

“Are you alright, Jane?” she asked, concerned. “You’ve been awfully quiet since we got back to the Common Room. Is it the visions you had earlier?”

“Yeah,” I reluctantly answered. “I can’t stop thinking about them, and I can’t really make sense of them either.”

“Well, let’s talk about them,” Rowan said, closing the dueling book and joining me on my bed. “Talk me through what you saw again. Maybe _I_ can make sense of them.”

I still felt reluctant to speak at all, but I did anyway. “I saw a walking suit of armor standing guard in front of a large door that was in the shape of a snowflake… There was a staircase shrouded in icy mist… And the worst image of all was ice encasing all of Hogwarts. There were loads of people, both students and professors, frozen in the ice, unable to get out. But the one thing that creeped me out the most was the woman’s voice saying that the ice was here and the vault will open.

“I’ve also been having these dreams ever since I got to Hogwarts,” I said, deciding to talk about them as well. “I’ve been seeing blocks of ice appearing in random places all over the castle, sometimes trapping people in the ice. I fear these recurring dreams are visions too—visions of the _future_. I fear that the ice has something to do with one of the Cursed Vaults, and apparently it’s about to open, if it isn’t already open. Maybe the mysterious woman that said it will open will be the one to open it…or maybe my _brother_ will come back to open it. Either way, what the woman said was a _warning_ …a warning that one of the Cursed Vaults will endanger all of Hogwarts if not stopped.”

“And you want to stop its curse—this ‘ice’ curse—from happening?” Rowan asked with a raised eyebrow. 

I nodded. “Exactly! But I’m not sure how we’re going to do that. I mean, we don’t have _proof_ that these things will actually happen.”

“Not _yet_ ,” Rowan corrected me. “If we see any evidence that your visions are coming true, we’ll have to tell someone—the professors, or even the Headmaster. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore might help you make sense of your visions. Maybe he’s had visions too.”

I shrugged. “Maybe…or maybe not. Most of the school already thinks I’m mad; the last thing I want, in that case, is for the _Headmaster_ to think the same way about me.”

Rowan shook her head. “I doubt he will. Remember what I said on our first day: you gotta think positive, otherwise it’ll get you nowhere. You’d be surprised what Dumbledore might do for you if you just ask nicely.”

I sighed. “For now, let’s focus on dealing with Merula. Once she’s out of the picture, we can think about my visions without any distractions. The last thing I want is her getting in the way of finding my brother, no matter what condition he is in.”

I then thought about Jacob and the vaults, and whether or not I would ever see him again. I was worried I _would_ see him again, either as a Death Eater or actually dead. Thinking back on my dream of him last night, if he actually had (or rather, _will_ have) something to do with opening the vault that will set the ice loose on Hogwarts, I wanted to stop him at all costs, and even find a way to save him from his curse, if he had gotten a hold of something from one of the vaults, and it made him truly mad.

I sighed with tears lingering in my eyes. _Oh, Jacob, what have you done? What have you become?_


	10. Revenge is Best Served Magical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Rowan are summoned to see Professor Flitwick and their prefect, Angelica Cole, who gives them permission to learn how to duel; or rather, in Flitwick’s words, “to learn how to defend [themselves].” Just before end-of-term exams, Jane has the opportunity to do just that and end Merula’s tyranny, but with great consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more.

On Wednesday morning, I received a letter from Professor Flitwick:

_Miss Morgan,_

_Due to unacceptable actions witnessed over the past weeks, I would like for you to meet with your prefect as well as myself for a private meeting on the Training Grounds later this evening at seven o’clock. Feel free to bring your friend, Miss Rowan Khanna, if she is able._

_Professor Flitwick_

Later that night, on the way to the meeting, Rowan was a bit nervous. “What do you think Professor Flitwick wants to talk to us about?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but I hope it’s about Merula,” I said distastefully, like the mere mention of her name had literally left a bad taste in my mouth. “She’s bullied us for too long. It must end.”

“Hopefully, he has some ideas on how to stop her,” Rowan said. “I’ve got a few myself, though I’m not sure if it would be right to share them with Professor Flitwick, or _any_ teacher, really.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. My parents once told me Professor Flitwick was once a dueling champion. Maybe he could teach us some dueling tricks. I’ve personally been wanting to learn to duel for a long time, and Professor Mormon isn’t exactly the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, to be honest.”

Rowan nodded. “Agreed. With the way that she teaches—or rather, _doesn’t_ teach and just cringes at the mere mention of a ghost or dangerous creature—I’m sure she’s gonna be thinking of quitting her post soon. I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t done that already.”

A few minutes later, we arrived at the Training Grounds, spotting Professor Flitwick standing in the middle of the mostly vacant field, as well as our prefect, Angelica Cole. Seeing the two of them together brought a flock of butterflies into my stomach. 

“Ah, Miss Morgan, Miss Khanna,” Flitwick greeted us, surprisingly warmly, upon our arrival. “Thank you for meeting us here.”

“What’s this about, Professor?” I asked nervously. “Did we do something wrong?”

“Quite the opposite, Miss Morgan,” Flitwick said. “Miss Cole has been keeping a close eye on you these past weeks, and she’s decided to take immediate action.”

“I confess I have been watching you and Rowan,” Angelica spoke up, “but not in the way that you think. I’ve been observing how Merula Snyde has been treating you, and I don’t appreciate how she is treating my fellow Gryffindors. That is exactly why I have arranged this meeting, and I have asked Professor Flitwick to give us a few suggestions on how to handle the situation.”

“You will not be learning any dueling spells until term resumes after Christmas,” Flitwick explained, “but considering the current circumstances, I am giving your prefect permission to teach you a handful of dueling spells. Though it is against the rules to duel in and outside the castle, I believe it is necessary to teach you how to defend yourself.”

“Did you find the dueling book I suggested that you find last week?” Angelica asked curiously.

 _As well as receive disturbing visions that may or may not hint at Hogwarts’ doom?_ I added in my head. _We sure did_.

“Yes, we did,” Rowan said in genuine excitement, obviously not mentioning my visions. “I read about three particular spells that I think would be quite useful against Merula. I told Jane all about them.”

“Which spells?” Angelica asked.

“The Shield Charm, _Protego_ , the Disarming Charm, _Expelliarmus_ , and…” I paused, suddenly feeling uncertain whether to share the last spell with Flitwick present. He was a professor, after all, and I wasn’t sure if these spells would be appropriate for this particular situation, or _any_ situation, really, since dueling was technically forbidden on school property.

However, Rowan went ahead and shared the last spell anyway. “And the Tickling Charm, _Rictusempra_.” She then paused, glancing at me uncertainly. “Although, that one might be a bit much…”

Angelica shook her head and admitted, “No, it’s a good spell, just…painful. But I’ll be happy to teach you all three of those spells tonight…” Glancing to Flitwick, she added, “With Professor Flitwick’s permission, of course.”

“Of course, Miss Cole,” Flitwick said with a smile. “You can teach them as many spells as you feel is necessary.” His smile then disappeared when he glanced at me and gave me a serious look. “But you should know, Miss Morgan… Unauthorized dueling is against the rules at Hogwarts. Only use these spells to defend yourself and nothing else. If caught using these spells for anything except self-defense, you will receive serious punishment and possible expulsion.”

I didn’t like the idea of expulsion, especially when I felt like I had only just gotten to Hogwarts, but at the same time I didn’t want to upset the one professor who was starting to become my favorite one of the lot, so I nodded and said, “I understand, Professor.” Although, even after saying those words, they sounded like a lie to my own ears, but I wasn’t sure if Rowan or Angelica caught on to that fact.

Luckily, Flitwick didn’t seem to, because he smiled, said, “Good. Goodnight to you all,” and walked back inside the castle, leaving Rowan and I alone with our prefect.

“Okay,” Rowan said eagerly. “Shall we get started then?”

“Shortly,” Angelica nodded. “I want to talk first.” She then turned to me and said seriously, “Jane, I know we haven’t seen eye-to-eye lately, and I know you miss your brother, but it is very important that you stay out of trouble while you’re at Hogwarts. I’m not trying to act like your mum; I just don’t want you, nor your fellow Gryffindors, getting hurt. I am hard on you because I _care_ for you, because I see great potential in you, and I don’t want you wasting all of that over some imaginary vaults. You can do great things here, just as long as you follow the rules and stay out of trouble.” She then paused. “Also…I would like us to be friends. I want to help you in any way that I can; it’s why I became prefect. Will you allow me to help you, not as a prefect but as a _friend_?”

I sighed. After the poor first impression I received from Angelica when we first met, I wasn’t willing to accept her help. When telling me to stay out of trouble at the start of the year, it was like she didn’t care about my brother, no matter what condition he might’ve been in—no matter what condition he might _still_ be in. Now, it seemed like she changed her mind to help me find him, not just because it was a prefect’s job to help students in need but because she wanted to be my _friend_ , and I suddenly found myself believing her and wanting to feel the same way about her.

“Of course,” I nodded. “I _know_ you’re not my mum, and you don’t want to be, but you want me to _succeed_ , just like my mum had always wanted for me. You’re like a big sister to me, Angelica, and to everyone else in our house.” Of course, if she were my actual elder sister, she’d be encouraging me to stay out of trouble in the same manner. That was what Jacob always used to tell me before _he_ went looking for trouble—that ‘trouble’ being the Cursed Vaults.

Angelica smiled and said, “Please, call me _Angie_.” Those words immediately made me think back on the first words she told me when we first met: _Only my friends call me Angie_. It was nice to know she had finally decided to add me to her ‘friends’ list.

I suddenly heard a sniffle from Rowan, and I turned to her as she said while wiping her eyes with her robe sleeve, “Well done, you two; now you just made me cry. It’s gonna be a struggle focusing on these spells with tears in my eyes.”

“Speaking of which, we should get started right away while the night is still young,” Angie said, taking out her wand. “We don’t have long before curfew.”

We spent several hours learning the spells Rowan had insisted on using against Merula, and when we were reaching the time that was almost curfew, Angie decided that Rowan and I had learned enough, and it was time to put them to the test.

“Alright,” Angie said. “Now that you’ve learned the basics, let’s begin your first duel. Who would like to go first?”

“Jane, you go!” Rowan said excitedly, which made me feel surprised that she didn’t volunteer to go first, what with how eager she was to get started earlier in the night. “I want to watch you and imagine you dueling _Merula_ instead of Angie.”

“Okay, Row,” I chuckled. “You’re dueling after me though.”

“Fine,” she shrugged indifferently. “I just want you to go first so I can see what I’ll be doing when it’s my turn.”

“You’ll be dueling in the exact same way as Jane, Rowan,” Angie admitted. “You just might cast the spells in a slightly different order.”

Regardless, I was still nervous. “I don’t want to hurt you, Angelica—I mean, _Angie_ ,” I said, correcting myself at the last second.

“You won’t hurt me…” Angie assured me, “at least not too much. I want to see your posture, and maybe we can continue this another time, maybe with Professor Flitwick as a witness.”

“Yeah, he did give us permission,” Rowan pointed out. “Maybe he could score us and give extra credit to whoever duels the best.”

Angie laughed. “That’s highly doubtful, but a brilliant idea. Let’s get started. Ready your wand, Jane.”

We spent a few minutes casting _Rictusempra_ , _Protego_ , and _Expelliarmus_ at each other, and toward the end, I felt pretty confident that I would easily defeat Merula in a duel.

I was especially confident when Angie exclaimed after a fit of giggles after I had hit her with _Rictusempra_ , “Blimey! That…was…brilliant, Jane! You’re a natural-born dueler!”

“Thanks,” I smiled, feeling proud of myself. “I gave it my all.”

“As you should,” Angie said, genuinely impressed. “ _Always_ give it your all. You’ll have a better chance of defeating your opponent that way. It also will save your life, but that’s a matter that should be saved for another time, perhaps when you’re older. It’s getting late; we should head back to the Common Room very soon.”

When Angie said the bit about how giving a duel my all would help save my life, I instantly thought of my brother, particularly the Death Eater version of my brother I had seen in my dream the night before Halloween. Maybe the dream could’ve ended differently if I had known at least one of the new spells I had learned just now. Could I have somehow changed Jacob back to his old self, or would he have stayed the same murderous Death Eater that he was? Would I have been able to deflect his Killing Curse?

“Thank you, Angie,” I suddenly felt the need to say. “Dueling has been something that I’ve wanted to learn for a long time since arriving to Hogwarts, and you’ve helped me a great deal tonight. These spells should be perfect to use against Merula.”

“I don’t disagree as a friend,” Angie admitted. She then went all serious again and said, “But as your prefect, I would advise you to only use these spells to defend yourself. Don’t go using these spells on Merula like she’s a punching bag. Like Flitwick said, if you’re caught dueling on school grounds, you will likely be expelled right away. Seeing as we just became friends, I don’t want to see you expelled anytime soon. In fact, I think you’d make a good _prefect_.”

“Really?” I said, evidently shocked, seeing as that was literally the nicest thing Angie had ever said to me. “Thanks! That’d be brilliant!” Even Mum had said a few times that she could see me as a great prefect, because I was caring and willing to help people in need.

“Maybe we can be prefects _together_ , Jane,” Rowan added, seemingly feeling left out of the conversation. “I have a dream of becoming a prefect myself.”

Angie chuckled. “Yes, you’d make a good prefect too, Rowan. Come on, we should get inside before Filch locks us out here.”

“Has Filch actually done that before?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous, knowing very well how much the caretaker, Argus Filch, hated children. “Locking students out of the castle?”

Angie laughed as if that was a joke. “No, but I always warn people of that so they don’t think to sneak out after curfew. It’s dangerous to be out at night. You never know who or what could be lurking on school grounds. It’s not very common that magical creatures come out of the Forbidden Forest to take a stroll through the castle grounds, but I’ve heard it can happen from time to time, which is why you shouldn’t stay out after dark.”

Rowan nodded thoughtfully. “Good to know. There are loads of magical creatures that live in the Forest. Centaurs, Unicorns, Werewolves…” She then continued rambling about werewolves as we entered the castle, suggesting how there could be a student in Hogwarts that could secretly be a werewolf, which sounded ludicrous to me. _A werewolf in Hogwarts?_ I thought incredulously. _Come off it!_

I then thought about Jacob, and whether he may have been bitten by a werewolf after he disappeared. The idea of having a werewolf for a brother sounded terrifying to me, but even if that actually happened, I would still love him and help him anyway. I hoped that wherever he was, he was safe, just as long as Voldemort hasn’t gotten to him first.

***

The Saturday before end-of-term exams, I was on my way to the Black Lake to do my usual leisurely reading in the sun when I came across an unusual commotion in the Courtyard. There were students gathered in a large circle, faces filled with genuine curiosity.

Suddenly, Rowan ran up to me from the crowd with a panicked look on her face and sweat beading her forehead. “Jane!” she cried. “Thank God you’re here!”

“Row, what’s going on?” I demanded nervously.

“Merula is threatening Ben Copper,” she explained. “He keeps trying to walk away, but she won’t let him.”

I sighed. _Of **course** she wasn’t_. “I’m so tired of this. This ends _today_!”

I immediately shoved my book in Rowan’s hands and stormed toward the crowd, pushing my way in to the center where Merula the Menace was threatening a quivering Ben Copper.

“You’re an embarrassment to everyone in our year!” she was yelling at him.

“Just leave me alone!” Ben begged, sounding desperate and terrified.

“Disgusting Mudbloods like you shouldn’t even be allowed in Hogwarts,” Merula continued, ignoring Ben’s pleas completely. “Leave the magic to _real_ witches and wizards!” I couldn’t believe she was _still_ using that filthy word toward him, even since Day One.

I’d had it! I ran in-between the two, shielding Ben from any spells Merula might cast at him. “Hey!” I screamed at her, wand in hand. “If you want to fight someone, fight _me_!”

Upon being interrupted, Merula sighed, rolling her violet eyes, “You never learn, do you, Morgan? Why don’t you be more like your mad _brother_ and go missing?”

“ _You’re_ the person everyone wishes would just go away!” I snapped back in annoyance. “Leave Ben alone. He’s done _nothing_ to you.”

Merula snickered. “Oh, on the contrary, he _has_ done something to me. He merely came within my line of vision while I was just minding my own business, and Mudbloods aren’t allowed _anywhere_ within my line of vision. Therefore, he should pay for it.”

I was in total disbelief at what Merula was saying, how she was treating this poor, innocent boy—a boy who just wanted to fit into the Wizarding Community, just like the rest of us. “He doesn’t have to pay you anything! _No one_ has to pay you anything! Just leave him be! I don’t want to have to fight you.” I was prepared to defend myself, as well as Ben, and I wasn’t afraid to do so.

Merula laughed, then taunted, “Oh, yeah? Why don’t you try it, Morgan? You’ll lose again like the loser you are!” But I didn’t move one inch. I just stood, glaring daggers at her. When Merula noticed this, she smirked and said, “You can’t, can you? Because you’re too _scared_ ; scared you’ll end up expelled just like your freak brother.”

I shook my head seriously. “No. I choose not to fight because I don’t want to end up a psychotic egomaniac like _you_.”

My words seemed to set her off the wrong way ( _good riddance_ , I thought), because she yelled angrily, “ _Ugh_ , that’s it!” and cast the one spell I figured she’d cast. “ _Flipendo_!”

However, I was prepared for her strike, and I blocked it immediately with one of my new spells. “ _Protego_!” Several students behind me exclaimed in awe at the invisible shield that appeared and prevented Merula's spell from hitting me.

Merula suddenly gasped, just as shocked. “What? How did you—?”

She clearly didn’t expect me to have learned any new spells, except for the ones we’d learned in class. I snickered and explained, “I did as you suggested. I learned a few spells; ones that’ll stop _your_ tyranny once and for all.” I heard a few students cheer at my words.

But Merula was having none of it. “No!” she screamed. “You can never stop me! I’m _unstoppable_!” She then cast _Flipendo_ again, but I deflected her spell again.

“Is that the only spell you know?” I scoffed. “Clearly _you_ need to learn a few more spells.” I then cast another of my new spells. “ _Rictusempra_!”

Once the spell hit her in the chest, Merula instantly doubled over, laughing uncontrollably, and I could see tears in her eyes, like she was in serious pain, but I honestly wasn’t fazed, because she deserved it, and everybody else around me knew it. Once she composed herself, Merula cast _Flipendo_ again (no surprise), and I deflected it yet again. At this point, I had sensed that Merula was starting to lose focus, what with how much in awe she was at how many _more_ spells I knew since the last time she challenged me to a duel.

That was when I took the opportunity to cast the last new spell. “ _Expelliarmus_!” Then, Merula’s wand came flying out of her hand, like an invisible force yanked it out of her grip. That was when I knew I had won and Merula had lost.

“ _What_?” she exclaimed in total shock, staring at her fallen wand on the floor. “How’d you learn that spell already? No fair!”

“That was _amazing_ , Jane!” Rowan cheered, and many other students cheered as well.

“You _can’t_ be better than me!” Merula screamed in an attempt to bring back more fame to herself. “ _No one_ can be better than me!” Clearly it wasn’t working out for her, because the other students continued to praise _me_ instead.

“It’s over, Merula,” I said in a tone that suggested that there was no changing the facts, especially with so many witnesses that had seen the proof, “you’ve been beat. Now apologize to Ben Copper and promise to stop bullying everyone.” I said that last bit in a way that I was willing to fight again if I had to.

“I’ll _never_ apologize to you losers and Mudbloods!” Merula screamed almost exactly like a whiny five-year-old.

It wasn’t until she had started speaking that I noticed that the other students were glancing toward the end of the courtyard. I turned to see what they were staring at, and that was when my heart stopped cold. Professors Flitwick and Snape were walking toward the crowd and stood right behind Merula, who just kept ranting, totally oblivious to their presence.

“I’m Merula Snyde!” Merula continued her outrage. “Fourth generation Slytherin! The greatest witch at Hogwarts! I do what I want _when_ I want! I run this school! I—”

“ _Ahem_ ,” Snape cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to get Merula’s attention, which worked, because Merula gasped and stood back.

“P-Professor Snape!” she stuttered, at a complete loss for words.

“I suspect this is _your_ fault, Morgan,” Snape said to me in a ‘not surprised’ tone. “Are you aware of Hogwarts’s policy on unauthorized dueling?”

Knowing I couldn’t lie my way out of this, knowing I’d been caught, I just nodded and said, “Yes, Professor.”

Of course, Professor Flitwick was the most disappointed in me, since he specifically told me not to duel _ever_ , and I had clearly disobeyed him. “Did you cast the first spell in this duel, Miss Morgan?” he asked in a sad but serious tone.

I knew I had to be honest, or I would get in even more trouble. “No,” I said. “Merula hit me with _Flipendo_ first.” I then saw Merula glare daggers at me from the corner of my eye, but I knew even _she_ couldn’t lie her way out of this either.

Surprisingly, Flitwick seemed to defend me in front of Snape. “Miss Snyde cast the first spell, Severus,” he said. “Miss Morgan was only defending herself.”

To be honest, it was true; everybody saw it. Merula was threatening Ben while I was defending him, and she took it a step too far and struck me with a spell. If I hadn’t stepped in when I did, it would’ve been _Ben_ who would’ve gotten struck, and for absolutely _no_ reason whatsoever.

But Snape didn’t seem to believe him. “And I wonder where she learned the Disarming Charm, _Filius_.” He said Flitwick’s name in a tone that suggested that _he_ was the one who taught me the spell, even though it was actually my prefect that taught me, but he gave her permission.

“Miss Morgan is one of my most skillful first-year students, Severus,” Flitwick said, seemingly still in my defense. “I would not be surprised if she had learned that spell all by herself.” I knew that was a lie. He gave Angie permission to teach me that spell, not him, but he didn’t want Snape to know about it. Of course not, or Angie would be taking the hit too, but she had no involvement in what happened just now between me and Merula.

However, Snape didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Regardless, it is against the rules to duel on school grounds,” He said. “Clean yourself up and see me in the West Towers after dinner to face the consequences of your actions, Morgan. You as well, Miss Snyde.” A part of me was still annoyed that he only used the prefixes before a surname with Slytherins and not anyone else who wasn’t, but I didn’t want to argue with him about it, since I was already in enough trouble.

I glanced hopefully at Flitwick, hoping he’d continue defending me in front of Snape and talk me out of trouble, but he just shook his head in disappointment and walked away without a word, which made me feel shameful, knowing I deserved it. In that moment, I felt like I had broken a promise between us—that I had broken a promise to my favorite teacher in Hogwarts—and he was disappointed that I had, and it was going to take a long time for him to forgive me. I saw Merula smirk at me one last time before entering the castle with the rest of the students. Even though she had been caught, Merula seemed to know that Snape wouldn’t punish her as much as he was going to punish me, just because she was in Slytherin; he almost never punished his Slytherin students, even though at times they should deserve the same punishments as the rest of us who were not in Slytherin. 

“Thanks for stepping in to save me, Jane,” Ben said appreciatively after everyone else had dispersed. “I don’t know what Merula would’ve done to me if you hadn’t.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Ben. What matters is that Merula’s tyranny is finally over. Hopefully, from now on, she’ll think twice before she threatens you again.” I was pretty sure she didn’t want to be beaten in a duel again either.

“Speaking of which, what do you think Snape will do to you for dueling Merula,” Rowan asked nervously, “even though _Merula_ should deserve the worst punishment since she started the duel?”

“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly feeling a shudder run down my spine at the thought, “but I sure hope expulsion isn’t on the table.” With my luck, that very well might end up being the case.


	11. A curious Corridor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the fear of expulsion weighing on her shoulders, Jane meets Professor Snape with Merula to discuss their punishment. Luckily, they are interrupted by Mr. Filch, who claims to have discovered something sinister—something that may be proof that the Cursed Vaults actually exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and will also keep me motivated to post more.

Later that same day, I sat at the Gryffindor Table, staring dismally at my untouched dinner plate, not being able to stop thinking about the possibility of this meal being the last meal I would ever have here at Hogwarts, because I was destined to be expelled at any moment, all because of that viperous snake, Merula Snyde. 

“You really should eat something, Jane,” Rowan said in a concerned tone as she bit into a piece of chicken leg. “You won’t have another meal for another twelve hours.”

“I can’t eat,” I said angrily. “Not with the possibility of expulsion hanging around my neck like a noose.”

“Flitwick said that,” Rowan said with a shrug, “but that’s only what it is—a possibility. That means it _might_ happen, but it might not.”

“Rowan, I _know_ what ‘possibility’ means,” I said in an annoyed tone. “I just…I really don’t want to be expelled. Hogwarts just became a second home to me. I don’t want to leave it…not forever. It’s bad enough _Snape_ was the one who caught me; no doubt he’ll expel me and let that snake stay.” I didn’t see the fairness in expulsion being the reward for defending a friend from a bully.

“That may be so,” Rowan shrugged again, “but doing something that extreme is the _Headmaster’s_ decision, not Snape’s. If Dumbledore saw what happened from your perspective, I’m sure he’ll change his mind to let _you_ stay and kick Merula out. At least, that’s what _I_ would do if I was Headmaster, or rather _Headmistress_. No doubt Merula would just tell lies to Dumbledore, but if you talked to him yourself and told him what _really_ happened, I’m sure he’ll take your side in a heartbeat and let you stay.”

She was right. Professor Dumbledore always seemed to be much more understanding than Professor Snape and was willing to give second chances; whereas Snape wasn’t as willing, not by a long shot. If _Snape_ was the Headmaster instead of Dumbledore, he’d definitely expel me without a second thought; in fact, he probably would’ve expelled me from the moment I—or rather _Merula_ —had exploded my potion in Potions Class on my first day. Thankfully, Snape didn’t have that authority over me, but he could still get permission from Dumbledore to expel me. _God, I sure hope he doesn’t_ , I hoped quietly to myself. 

“Thanks, Rowan,” I smiled at her warmly. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” she smiled back, showing broccoli-stained teeth.

“No, you’re right,” I chuckled. “I wouldn’t.”

Just then, a familiar Hufflepuff girl with bright blue eyes and braided blond hair approached me and slid on the bench next to me. “Hey, Jane!” she waved at me. “Remember me? We met on the Hogwarts Express.”

I nodded. “Yes, I remember you. Penny Haywood, right?”

“Yup, that’s me!” she smiled, her teeth, unlike Rowan’s, perfectly clean and white. 

“You’re the most popular girl in our year,” I said, in total disbelief that someone like that would have any interest in talking to a (in Merula’s words) ‘cursed loser’ like me; “and I’m…” I then paused sadly. “Well… _not_ popular.”

“I disagree, Jane,” Penny shook her head. “Everyone is talking about the heroine who was brave enough to stand up to the tyranny of Merula Snyde. Not to mention all the rumors surrounding your brother.”

I couldn’t help but sigh and roll my eyes. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, I wanted to say thank you,” she continued. “Hogwarts is supposed to be fun, but Merula was making it miserable for everyone. I especially appreciate how you immediately stepped in between Merula and Ben Copper to stop her bullying.”

“Someone had to do something,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“I agree,” Penny nodded, “but only _you_ were brave enough. I hope Professor Snape doesn’t punish you for your bravery. Let me know if I can help you with anything, Jane. I know the gossip around Hogwarts, and I’m pretty good with potions if I say so myself.”

I smiled appreciatively. “Yes, you mentioned that on the train. And I will. Thanks, Penny.”

“You as well, Jane,” she smiled back. “I’ll see you around. You too, Rowan!”

“See ya, Pen!” Rowan waved as Penny ran back to rejoin her Hufflepuff friends. She then sighed. “She really is popular. I wish _we_ were popular like her.”

“If I didn’t have my brother’s bad reputation haunting me everywhere I go, I _would_ be,” I replied dismally. “I’ve tried so hard to fit in here, but the only place I fit into is Trouble Town.”

“It’s actually not so bad, Jane,” Rowan shook her head. “What’s brilliant about Trouble Town is that you get to go on all these grand adventures, like the Cursed Vaults. I would give up every last book to go on an adventure through Trouble Town with you.” She then paused and said, “Actually, that’s a lie. I would _never_ give up any of my books, but I’d still accompany you on your adventures.”

I smiled again. “Thanks, Row.” Seeing movement at the corner of my eye, I saw Snape walking toward the exit of the Great Hall, followed closely by Merula, and my smile immediately faded from my face. He glanced sternly at me and gestured for me to follow him before he slipped out the door. “I should probably start heading to the West Towers,” I said sadly as I got up from the table. “Snape wanted us to meet him there after dinner, and he said we’d be in more trouble if we’re late.”

“Good luck, Jane,” Rowan said a little sympathetically. “I hope he doesn’t give you too harsh of a punishment, especially if it includes expulsion.”

“Me neither,” I agreed. “I’ll see you at the Common Room after.” I then left to follow Snape and Merula. I found them standing around the corner on the far side of the corridor leading away from the Great Hall. I guessed, since he saw us both in the Great Hall at the same time, he changed his mind to meet here instead of up in the West Towers.

“There you are, Morgan,” Snape greeted me in his usual grumpy way. “Now that you and Miss Snyde are here, I can discuss your punishment. _Expulsion_ seems to be the most logical option.”

 _No surprise_ , I couldn’t help thinking in my head with a slight roll of my eyes.

“I had nothing to do with it, Professor,” Merula suddenly spoke up, feigning innocence. “I only defended myself when this loser attacked me!” Her snide comment made me stare, flabbergasted, at her, knowing she was lying again to get out of whatever punishment Snape had in mind for us.

Luckily, Snape saw sense and seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. “Everyone saw you cast that first spell, Miss Snyde.” After he said that, I couldn’t help but smirk at her, and she gave an ‘ _I’m going to get you back_ ’ look back at me, which I ignored. “This, however, does _not_ excuse Morgan’s behavior.” Snape spoke up again, this time glancing to me, and my smirk immediately disappeared. “Since you arrived, you have fought in the corridor, made a mess of my classroom, and dueled on school grounds. _This_ after the damage your _brother_ did to Hogwarts. Why _shouldn’t_ you receive the harshest punishment for your actions, Morgan?”

 _Because absolutely **none** of that was my fault_, I wanted to say, but I knew that if I did, Snape would yell at me for lying (which I technically wasn’t, seeing as _Merula_ had started all of those things, and I tried and failed to stop her from making things worse) and expel me right on the spot. So, I said the only honest thing I could say. “I stopped Merula from bullying me and my friends. I didn’t do anything wrong.” _Why should I be punished for defending my friends?_ I wanted to scream at him. _It’s completely unfair!_

But, of course, Snape didn’t want to hear it. “Attacking a student with your wand is against school rules,” he said in almost a yell. “You quite _literally_ _did_ do something wrong. _Twenty_ points from Gryffindor!”

I sighed and rolled my eyes, knowing that Angie was going to be upset, but I was too angry to care.

“As I said,” Snape continued in a somewhat softer voice, “expulsion is the logical punishment for dueling on school grounds. Unfortunately, our Headmaster is illogical and believes that expulsion is _unfair_ in this case.”

Hearing this made both Merula and I feel a pang of relief. I guessed I wasn’t going to be expelled, after all. _Thank God_ , I thought.

“If either of you are ever caught dueling on school grounds again,” Snape said, glaring daggers at us, but mostly at me, “I can assure you that you will _not_ be so fortunate.” This statement made us both glance shamefully at the floor.

Suddenly, an elderly-sounding voice shouted from behind us, “Professor!” We turned to see the caretaker, Argus Filch, running—more like _hobbling_ , due to his seemingly weak knees—toward us, followed closely by his scrawny-looking cat, Mrs. Norris. 

“What is it, Mr. Filch?” Snape asked in a calming voice, very unlike how he spoke to Merula and I just seconds ago.

“Professor Snape!” Filch said in a seemingly panicked voice. “You must come with me righ’ away. It’s about…” He suddenly paused, glancing down at Merula and I as if seeing us for the first time. He then lowered his voice to a whisper and said in Snape’s ear, but at a volume that I could still hear, “The _vaults_.”

Hearing those last two words instantly made my body stiffen in shock, knowing there was only _one_ set of vaults that he could be talking about. I glanced to Merula, and her body was straightened in almost the exact same way as mine.

Snape then turned to us and gave us a strict order. “Return to your Common Rooms. We will discuss your punishment tomorrow.” He then strode down the corridor with Filch and Mrs. Norris in tow.

The instant that the adults had left earshot, Merula piped up and said, “The _vaults_? I bet they must be talking about the _Cursed_ Vaults! _No way_ I’m missing this.” She then hurried after them, not thinking twice about the consequences of disobeying Snape’s direct orders. _Typical_ , I thought with a roll of my eyes, but then I frowned.

“Why does _she_ care about the Cursed Vaults?” I pondered aloud. “I’d better follow her and Snape. _I_ can’t miss this either, especially if they find something about my brother.”

***

I ended up following Merula back to the dark part of Hogwarts where she trapped Rowan and I with the Devil’s Snare on our first day, and I was surprised to see her pass the room and creep further down the corridor. As I followed, albeit at a slight distance so she thought she was alone, I noticed that the corridor’s temperature dropped the further down I walked.

I finally caught up with her as she was crouched behind a nine-foot tall statue of a knight.

“Merula, what are you doing?” I demanded in a harsh whisper.

Merula jumped upon hearing me and discovering that I had followed her. “Ugh, _you’re_ here!” she grumbled in an annoyed tone. “Get out of here before you get us in _more_ trouble! We’re not supposed to be here.”

“What’s going on?” I demanded again.

Merula immediately shushed me. “Be quiet and see for yourself.” She gestured to the far end of the corridor, where Professor Snape and Mr. Filch were talking in low voices to each other. They were standing outside a very ancient-looking door that appeared to emit a bright blue light from within.

Remembering what Filch said when he found us, I murmured knowingly, “They must be talking about the Cursed Vaults.”

“ _Duh_ ,” Merula sighed, rolling her eyes. “Shut up so I can listen to what they’re saying.” Her tone was insistent, like she was determined to find out everything that the two adults were saying, and in all honesty, so did I, so I did as she requested. 

“Who else knows about this?” I heard Snape ask seriously to Filch, his hand brushing lightly against the surface of the door.

“Only me an’ Mrs. Norris saw the ice, sir,” Filch said, stroking his cat’s fur. “Was going to report the incident to the ‘eadmaster, I was.”

 _Ice_ , I immediately thought to myself. _Just like in my dreams and visions_.

“I will inform Professor Dumbledore,” Snape replied. “This may have to do with the Morgan situation.”

I frowned upon hearing my surname being said in that manner, like this was _my_ fault that whatever it was that was behind that door was there, but I knew that was a lie, and that it had to be my brother’s doing from when he was still at Hogwarts. Could he have returned to gather more evidence of the Cursed Vaults one last time? Was _he_ behind that door?

“Is it true that the Vaults are filled with gold and powerful prophecies and ar’ifacts from before ‘ogwarts existed?” Filch asked curiously. “An’ that’s why the Morgan boy lost his mind trying to find ‘em?”

Snape shook his head. “Don’t worry about what’s inside the vaults. Worry about keeping everyone _out_. Lock this door and keep it guarded. In fact, I am going to suggest to the Headmaster to forbid _everyone_ from entering this corridor at all costs. Everyone except _us_ , that is. We must inform him at once.”

Immediately after, they turned toward our direction, and I pulled Merula behind the statue with me. She shook me off of her, but she stayed quiet and hidden as Snape walked right past us and around the corner. We didn’t see Filch following, so I risked a glance around the statue to see him walking in the opposite direction with Mrs. Norris further into the dark corridor and out of sight.

As soon as I knew we were safe, I asked Merula, “What is the ‘Morgan situation’?”

“Who cares?” Merula shrugged. “This is another clue to the Cursed Vaults.”

“You think the Cursed Vaults are real?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “And you’re trying to find them? You always call my brother mad for doing that exact thing.”

“Even if I cared to explain myself to an _idiot_ , I wouldn’t do it here and risk getting caught by the two meanest people at Hogwarts.” She then walked back down the corridor where Snape had gone, murmuring under her breath, “Ugh, are people _always_ this stupid, or is it just a ‘Morgan’ thing?”

Shortly after Merula left, I glanced back at the door where Snape and Filch were standing near, and I sighed. “She has a point,” I pondered aloud, “about getting _caught_ here, anyway. I better tell Rowan what I heard.” I then left the corridor before Filch or Snape came back, that familiar icy chill creeping up my spine again.

***

“This is _brilliant_!” Rowan exclaimed excitedly after I had explained everything to her after returning to our Common Room. “Your very first clue to the Cursed Vaults could be lying just on the other side of that door.”

“ _And_ a first clue to finding my _brother_ ,” I added hopefully.

“Yes, that too,” Rowan nodded. “What do you think is on the other side?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug, “but it must be something dangerous if Snape wants to keep it locked up and guarded. Apparently, he’s going to talk to Professor Dumbledore and ask to have that entire corridor under lockdown so no one can get in or out. In fact, Snape could be talking to Dumbledore about that right now as we speak.”

“You said Filch said something about ice,” Rowan pointed out. “Do you think he was talking about _the_ ice; I mean, the ice from your dreams and visions?”

I nodded. “He must be. _That_ could be what’s on the other side of the door. We need to investigate it before they lock it up entirely.”

“But how?” Rowan asked with a frown. “Snape, Filch, and maybe even Dumbledore could be preparing to put the corridor under lockdown right now. If we go, we’ll be caught, and then we could be _expelled_.” She then paused and added, “Plus, you’ve been put in enough trouble already from dueling Merula earlier. If Snape catches you again…”

“He won’t,” I shook my head confidently, “and nor will Filch. We’ll sneak there tonight after everyone goes to bed, and we can find out what’s really going on. I _need_ to know what’s behind that door. Like I said, it could be a clue to finding Jacob.”

Rowan shook her head uncertainly. “I don’t know, Jane.”

“You said it yourself that you wanted to go on an adventure through Trouble Town with me,” I pointed out. “This could be our opportunity…maybe our _only_ opportunity. Don’t _you_ want to know what’s behind that door too?”

“I do, but…” She then sighed. “I just don’t want to get caught, especially not this soon before Christmas. If my parents found out we’ve been snooping in a forbidden corridor…”

“It’s not forbidden _yet_ ,” I shook my head. “As long as we hurry in and out, Filch and Snape will never know that we were even there; they’ll just continue guarding the door without even knowing what we’ve discovered on the other side.” I then paused, smirking. “Imagine knowing something that Snape doesn’t.” I doubted Snape knew anything about the Cursed Vaults, and the idea of knowing more about them than he, or any other professor, did greatly excited me.

Rowan smirked as well. “That would be _wicked_. _Literally_ , because that’s the most cunning thing I think I’ve ever heard you say. Although, it could be Snape already knows what’s on the other side. If there’s cursed ice in there, like Filch said…”

“Then we’ll find out,” I said determinedly. “Don’t you ever hate it when adults know things you wish you knew; like, secrets about your past, or someone else’s past? Or, in this case, _Hogwarts’_ past?” For all we knew, the entire castle was built right on top of the Vaults as a way of keeping them well hidden from the rest of the world because of how ‘cursed’ they really were, given their name.

“What do you mean by that?” Rowan asked, puzzled. “You think the Cursed Vaults could be a part of Hogwarts’ past?”

“Exactly,” I nodded. “I bet there’s not a single mention of Cursed Vaults in _any_ history book on Hogwarts…at least none that _you’ve_ read.” Of _course_ they weren’t mentioned in any history books, if whoever built the castle on top of them didn’t want anybody finding out about them…about their _curses_.

“Actually, some _have_ mentioned Cursed Vaults,” Rowan said, “but they’ve always been described as a myth. But you said Filch may have found some actual evidence of the Vaults’ existence.”

“ _The ice_ ,” we both said together in confirmation.

“Exactly,” I nodded again. “Therefore, the Vaults _must_ exist. One of the Vaults must be an _Ice_ Vault, hence why ice was found behind that door.”

“Although, I’m worried about Merula,” Rowan said, slightly changing the subject. “You said she was interested in the Vaults as well. Why?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, shaking my head nervously, “but it worries me too. If Filch’s theory about the Vaults containing cursed artifacts is true, I would hate to find out what would happen if Merula got her hands on one of them.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I want to imagine what an all-powerful Merula would look like,” Rowan said in agreement.

“Me neither,” I said, knowing that if Merula Snyde got a hold of a cursed artifact, there would _definitely_ be no stopping her reign of terror over Hogwarts, “which is why we must get inside that room before she does.”

***

After a bit more persuasion, I was finally able to convince Rowan to accompany me back to the corridor where Filch saw the ice behind that door. We stayed in our beds and pretended to sleep while our other roommates drifted off to sleep in their beds, and when we felt like everyone was fully passed out, we snuck out of the dorm room and out of the Common Room.

“This is where Snape and Filch were talking,” I said after we arrived at the now empty corridor. Although it was empty, I knew it wasn’t going to be for long.

Rowan must have been thinking the exact same thing, because she spoke up and said nervously, “I’m starting to have second thoughts, Jane. If Snape told Filch to stay on guard, he’ll be back soon. The stories I’ve heard about how he punishes misbehaving students make Snape look like a pleasant Hufflepuff. Are you sure we should be searching this corridor?”

“We’ll be fine as long as we hurry and stay aware of our surroundings,” I assured her; although, deep down, I was actually assuring _myself_. I knew that if I was caught snooping here after hours, I was going to be expelled for sure.

“Okay,” Rowan sighed with a nod. “I trust you, Jane. Besides, I don’t think I could forgive myself for not taking the opportunity to inspect a forbidden corridor in Hogwarts. You were right about that earlier.”

After she finished talking, I suddenly heard a noise from somewhere in the dark corridor. “Wait! Did you hear something?” I gasped, glancing down the corridor where I figured Snape or Filch would appear at any moment.

“Based on my research, there are at least twenty-one different entities that could be roaming the corridors at night, and every one of them is potentially terrifying,” Rowan said as a way of reassuring me that it was probably nothing too threatening, like a rat scurrying through the darkness in search of food, or something of that sort. “What should we do, Jane?”

Shaking my head and ignoring my nerves, I said, “Let’s just search the place as fast as we can and hope whatever it is isn’t coming this way.”

We agreed to not use the Wand-Lighting Charm, not wanting to attract attention to ourselves, such as Snape, Filch, or any other professor that agreed to watch the corridor. The longer I could avoid expulsion from this wondrous castle, the better.

“Is this where Filch said he saw the ice?” Rowan asked as she inspected the door closely, running her hands lightly across the intricate carvings in the wood.

“Yeah,” I nodded. I tried tugging at the door, but it didn’t budge. Snape must have come back here just before curfew and locked the door before anyone could get access to it…or to let anything inside escape. “It’s locked!” I grunted. “We need to get this open somehow. Maybe with a key, or a spell?” I turned to Rowan and asked hopefully, “Do you know any unlocking spells?”

“No,” she shook her head, and my hope immediately degraded. “Unfortunately I do not. Which is annoying, because even if there _was_ one, that spell would be very useful right now.”

I was about to agree when I suddenly felt a chilly breeze coming from underneath the door. “That’s strange…” I frowned. “There’s a cold draft coming from inside…”

“Probably from the ice,” Rowan suggested. She then brushed her hand along the wall framing the door. “But there’s something strange about this brick. It seems…old. _Really_ old. Like, older than most of the other walls surrounding Hogwarts.”

I suddenly felt frustrated. We were just told of some mysterious evidence of the Cursed Vaults’ existence that laid on the other side of this door, but sometime earlier Snape had gone ahead and locked the door, keeping its contents away from me. It was like he knew I would try to come here and discover whatever was inside, and he was clearly preventing me from finding out its secrets within—secrets that could possibly lead to Jacob.

“I have to get inside this door!” I said angrily. “It could have something to do with my missing brother.”

“How?” Rowan said, throwing her arms above her head in exasperation. “We don’t know any unlocking spells, and we don’t know of any keys that could fit into this lock. What are we going to do?”

I shook my head in defeat. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to do more research, but we aren’t going to be able to work out what’s really going on unless we get inside that room; but with the end of the term coming up, we may have to wait to come back here _next_ term.”

“Hmmm…” Rowan pondered aloud. “An impenetrable lock, a mysterious door, and the constant threat of being caught by Filch…” She then shook her head, seemingly giving up. “I don’t know,” she groaned. “Getting into that room seems impossible, Jane. This seems too complicated of a mystery, even for _me_.”

“I’ll find a way,” I said confidently, “but I’ll need your help.”

“I’m always here to help,” she shrugged, “but—”

She was interrupted by a small cracking noise, like a foot pressing weight on hard rock.

Fearing it to be one of the professors, particularly Snape, I gasped, “Shh! Someone’s coming!”

As the footsteps were getting closer, I realized that these weren’t the footsteps of a human but rather an _animal_.

“Not someone…” Rowan said, catching on to the same thing I was hearing. “Some _thing_.”

Suddenly, the ‘thing’ scampered across the corridor, and we realized that it was a cat.

“Oh, it’s just a cat,” I sighed in relief. I then laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of being scared by a _cat_ , of all creatures. 

I glanced to Rowan, but she wasn’t laughing with me. “That’s not just a cat, Jane…” she said, shaking her head slowly, her voice sounding panicked. “That’s Mrs. Norris!”

Her words made my heart go into terror-filled overdrive. If that really _was_ Mrs. Norris, then Filch wasn’t too far away. Upon seeing us, the cat hissed loudly at us and scurried away back into the darkness.

“Do you think she’s going to get Filch?” I glanced to Rowan nervously, my heart feeling like it was beating in my throat. 

She shook her head. “I don’t know, but wherever she’s going, I don’t want to be here when she comes back. Let’s get back to the Common Room! Quickly!”

Without thinking twice, we ran, not looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO BE CONTINUED!!!
> 
> Feel free to check out some of my other works on my page and give me kudos and feedback on what you thought of my story so far.


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